The Path That Leads Astray
by Bertney-Schnauzer
Summary: Hirale never wanted anything more than to live happily and simply with his clan, but when the templar-mage war erupted, his Keeper sent him to spy on the Divine Conclave to see if a solution could be found. Now he's flung into a world he never wanted to be part of and worshipped by those he'd rather have nothing to do with. [CullenxTransM!Lavellan] [SolasxF!Lavellan]
1. Prologue

A/N: Hello, readers and fellow fanfic-ians! It's been a long time since I sat down and wrote fanfiction, but with how obsessed I've become with the entirety of the Dragon Age series, I think it's bout time I jumped back in.

I've had this story stuck in my head for quite some time and only recently had the chance to write it all out. I know that everyone seems to be writing a game-length fanfiction of what they wanted to happen in Inquisition, and this one is no different. I loved the elven play through for Inquisition, though there were parts of it I thought should have been different in many ways so here it is. There will be a number of my own head canons in this so be prepared for a bit of a twist on a few parts of the storyline.

That being said, one of my Inquisitors in this story _is_ a transman and I would appreciate that any transphobic comments (or any hateful comments in general) be kept to themselves and well away from my story.

As always: _Don't like, don't read._

Thank you. Enjoy!

-Bert

 **The Path that Leads Astray**

 **Prologue**

* * *

A few years after the rebellion in Kirkwall, the fragile tension between mages and templars erupted into an all out war. The Circles voted for independence from the Chantry, resulting in the Templar and Seeker orders leaving the Chantry as well.

As declared by former Lord Seeker Lambert, it was to suitably police the mages as the orders saw fit without the limitations of the Chantry being enforced. To make matters worse, a civil war broke out in Orlais following the attempt on Empress Celene's throne from her cousin, Duke Gaspard.

In this time of unrest, the people turned to their heroes: Amelia Hawke and Harwyn Mahariel.

The Champion of Kirkwall had gone into hiding shortly after defeating Knight-Commander Meredith, though many had hoped to look to her for courage in this time of conflict. The hands of the Divine had even hoped she would help settle the tension between mages and templars by leading a reformed Inquisition. Having had enough of the, as she so eloquently put it, _bullshit_ she had been put through, Amelia Hawke disappeared; leaving in her wake, the Seekers grasping at mere rumors of her whereabouts.

Her companions, if they knew where to find her, weren't giving an inch to those looking for her, responding with belligerent loyalty or feigning ignorance. Her elven lover and former Tevinter slave, Fenris, was nowhere to be found either and assumed to be in hiding with the Champion.

So the eyes of the Ferelden people fell upon the throne to King Alistair, begging him to contact their hero, the conqueror of the Fifth Archdemon, the grey warden Harwyn Mahariel.

But the Warden was even harder to find than Hawke. The Dalish had rarely been an easy group to find, as they were so nomadic and rarely involved themselves in human issues, but many thought finding this one in particular would have been easier as she was easily recognizable and already proved to be an asset to Thedas.

It had not been.

The King had attempted to contact the hero's known mistress and left hand of the Divine, Leliana, but she offered little to no explanation for her lover's disappearance.

Thedas was falling into chaos and without their heroes to rely on; Divine Justinia took it upon herself to announce a Divine Conclave, a last effort for compromise between the two sides. It would be held at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, both sides would attend to find a solution to the problem before any more blood was spilled.

It could be the way to stop the war or to make it worse, but only time would tell.

* * *

Deep within the forests of the Free Marches, Clan Lavellan had settled nicely away from the turmoil rumbling within the South. On occasion, a few fights would come dangerously close; but luckily, with skilled enough hunters, the little sparks of rebellion were easily smothered.

It was nearly noon when Hirale and the twins had arrived back to camp, a few large catches thrown over their shoulders while the smaller game was tucked away into packs on their sides. When they sauntered through the handmade archway of the camp, they were met with a slew of greetings, intertwined with surprise at their early return.

The templar and mage dispute was starting to make its way closer to the clan and they had to cut their hunt short to deal with the stragglers and alert the elders. When they returned, they learned that the Keeper had gathered their elders to discuss what to do about the war and determine if they would need to get involved.

Hirale was one of Clan Lavellan's most skillful hunters and the praise of his peers was not lost on his ego. His ability made him quite popular amongst the clan, giving him coercion in clan meetings and pick of anyone if he ever decided on a mate.

He was quite the peacock.

He often wore embellished Dalish hunting armor of green and tan; unlike the typical Dalish armor, it had a fancy trim designed in it. He favored thicker armor as it washed out any distinguishable feminine curves he'd rather be erased. Thankfully his medication, for the most part, had been smoothing them out, but he was still nowhere near where he wanted to be so the artifice was welcomed.

While on the hunt, he typically carried the standard bow and arrow, though his weapon of choice was a battle-axe crafted from Veridium and darkened Samite. Despite his small frame, he could wield a weapon twice his size without any strain and was a forced to be reckoned with once he got his momentum.

White swirls of vallaslin, a tribute to Andruil, trailed so lightly over his forehead and jawline they looked like a faded afterthought. Pastel blonde hair fell smoothly in a wave atop his head and left faded beneath it. His eyes were like wild violets; so bright against his honeyed skin they looked electric. There was an old gash, healed over his lower lip and a few tattered marks edging experience into his features though he was barely out of his twenties. He had ripples of muscle following down his arms and powerful thighs that excelled at speed.

"That's quite the haul!" The craft master of the clan, Cyrmet, exclaimed when the three waltzed over to his hut. He was an impish man, time had scraped away his physique and he looked as though a gust of wind could easily knock him down. "We'll be eating like kings for weeks!"

"That isn't all." One of the twins, Lemhon, said grinning from ear to ear. Her dark vallaslin twisted with her smile. "Thought you'd like some of these."

Her sister, Lemhel, flopped one of her packs into the craft master's arms. It was nearly overflowing with ironbark and herbs. The look on the old man's face was like that of a child receiving a long desired gift.

"They weren't easy to come by." Lemhel said as a smirk, one matching her sister's, tweaked her lips.

The twins looked like matching bookends, the only differences between them were the faded trails of vallaslin and the occasional aged scars on their faces. The two were tall like trees; wild red hair lit aflame atop their heads and blue eyes twinkled mischievously. They were strapping women, youthful arrogance riddling in their posture and the way they spoke.

"I had to fight off a bear to get to that ironbark!" Lemhon exclaimed as she flung her arms into the air dramatically.

"Did she say _a bear_?" Lemhel jumped in.

"I meant five!"

"With razor sharp claws!"

"And dripping fangs!"

"They had me cornered-"

Cyrmet indulged their outlandish tales as he placed the crafting materials in their proper baskets, making sure to emit the occasional surprised gasp as the story took flight. If the two weren't so proficient in hunting, they'd surely be considered for the next storytellers of the Clan.

Hirale smiled lightly at them, but his attention was elsewhere as his eyes quickly scanned over the camp searching for one elf in particular.

Clan Lavellan worked like gears in a clock, every member had a job and was attending to their duties promptly. The hunters that had not gone with Hirale and the twins were tending to the weapons or patrolling around the camp. Those that had finished their jobs were joined around the fire pit, trading stories and fables with one another as the children listened. A light melody played along the camp as they went about their day, something soft and merry. But amongst them, Hirale couldn't see his friend, Aydienne, anywhere.

"And there I was, with only a single arrow left!"

"Death was imminent!"

"And I took that arrow and aimed straight for its heart and-"

"Hahren, have you seen Aydienne?" Hirale interjected, looking back to the craft master and ignoring Lemhon's wounded face for his interruption.

"Oh, she went off to read, I think." Cyrmet answered, as he checked off lines on a piece of parchment he had for his inventory.

"I should have guessed." Hirale breathed.

"Always with her nose stuck in a book." Lemhel offered with a chuckle.

"You should take the meat over for storage." The craft master suggested, nodding his head toward another hut across the way.

"But I'm not done with my story!" Lemhon exclaimed childishly.

"There will be time for that later." Cyrmet said, gesturing the two off. "Best you get the meat cured before it goes bad." The twins nodded obediently and peered over to Hirale.

"Do you want to come with us?" They asked together.

Hirale shook his head and said, "I'll catch up with you later." The twins nodded to him and left, still just as loud as they walked away, laughing and chattering together about the hunt. Hirale looked back to the craft master. "Did you see where she went off to?"

"Near that tree on the edge of camp, if I recall."

"Ma serannas, Hahren." Hirale turned heel and headed toward the outside of the camp.

* * *

The forest was quiet, give or take an occasional chatter of wildlife going about their day. The trees reached clear to the sky, clutching at the blueness with grasping green branches. The day was warm in the sunlight, cooled down only by the breeze wafting through the trunks.

Aydienne was sitting beneath a tree just a few yards away from the clan, a book nestled comfortably in her lap while she absentmindedly twisted a ribbon through her fingers. A finely crafted staff leaned against the tree, its opal orb dormant.

Her face was narrow and her skin was nearly flawless, a side effect of spending most days studying elven history and literature and not participating in hunts. Oil black hair was pulled over to one side, billowing down into a braid, while the other side had been shaved closely from the nap of her neck to the temple.

She had eyes that could rival that of fire and sparked with a ferocious curiosity. Her vallaslin twisted into bright green swirls from beneath her eyes and well over her forehead, praise to Mythal rather than Andruil.

She hadn't been born into Clan Lavellan, but had been a trade in from another clan many years ago. While some Dalish clans turned out any additional mages, for fear of magic, most saw the importance of keeping their numbers and magical talent within their kind and would trade apprentices from clan to clan.

Aydienne's original clan had considered sending her away as she got older because of her debatable take on elven culture. Aydienne was interested in knowledge and not repetitive storytelling; she often found herself questioning the stories her elders told her, which didn't make her the most popular amongst her people. She would collect various tomes of different cultures and histories from merchants her clan traded with and would steal time away from camp to read them on her own.

They had already two apprentices to their Keeper at the time and needed very little reason to cast her out. Although, Clan Lavellan was much more accepting of her quirks, she still found herself on the outs even within this clan. Other than the Keeper, she was only close to Hirale and even that, at the beginning, hadn't been an easy friendship.

Against the glaring silence of the forest, the sound of Hirale's clamoring armor as he flopped down next to her was like thunder. "How you can hunt in that without making a sound is proof Andruil favors you." Aydienne muttered, giving her friend a playful nudge.

"I'm not trying to be stealthy right _now_ , da'avise." Hirale reasoned, returning the nudge. He peered over Aydienne's shoulder, scanning the tome briefly. "What are you reading now?"

"A detailed collection of an Orlesian scholar and his thoughts on Fen'Harel." Aydienne answered as she slipped a colorful ribbon into the binding of the book to save her place.

Hirale crinkled his nose wincingly as he swiftly snatched the book from Aydienne's hands, much to her protest. He held the book out by its cover, the pages flapping wildly as they hung awkwardly in the air.

"Our stories tell us all we need to know about the Dread Wolf." Hirale stated with a disgusted face as Aydienne clawed over him to get to her book. "Why would you bother with reading what a shemlen would write about it? And an _Orlesian_ at that."

As a proud Dalish, Hirale found all he would ever need about their culture in the stories and traditions their elders passed down. He didn't need the word of some shemlen trying to explain something as simple as the Dread Wolf to him. Everything he knew and loved was here, the outside world just didn't mean much to him; Aydienne, however, felt completely the opposite.

"Well, neither are _we_ , da'mi." Aydienne argued, finally snagging the book back and smoothing the pages affectionately. Once they were neatly pressed, she turned to look at Hirale with a sour face. "Besides, it's _interesting_!"

"I think you and I have different definitions for 'interesting-'"

"He suggests that perhaps the actual meaning of Fen'Harel's name may have been misinterpreted and that-"

Hirale rolled his eyes and began picking at his nails, hoping his apparent boredom would stave off a lecture from the apprentice. However, such actions rarely deterred Aydienne if she noticed them at all amidst her rambling.

"-Perhaps he wasn't even a trickster god in the first place-"

"If you say so." Hirale said casually as he pulled off his gauntlets and twisted his wrist, stretching the stiff muscles. "I don't see why you can't be content with reading the _Elven texts_ the Keeper gave you."

"Because I've read them all!"

Hirale didn't doubt her. Aydienne was by far the most brilliant elf he knew. Her magical talent far surpassed the Keeper's expectations and her desire for knowledge was insatiable.

"I want to know more than what the Keeper can teach me." Aydienne continued. Her yearning gaze fell on the cover of her book and her fingertips grazed the binding softly. "Besides, our people are so set on recovering the past that they forget everything around them now. We're so content to ride along in aravels and act like this is preservation, but it just feels like we're fading."

As a result of her desire to learn more than what her elders taught her within the Clan, most got the impression that Aydienne disliked her own people, but the truth was that she cared a great deal. She often felt that the stories told to her weren't complete truths and the only way to learn more was to compile other texts outside of the recycled ones her elders kept.

Her compassion was not strictly for the Dalish either, like most of their people felt, but for all the elves of Thedas and what better way to express that than to uncover as much as she could about their past; even if it didn't correlate with her childhood stories.

"We were once a great empire and now we're dwindling in the forests waiting for the humans to kill each other off so we can take back what we lost." She heaved a sigh, exasperated. "But the truth is, we're already losing."

"Don't let Thelnarel hear you say that. He'll have a field day convincing everyone you're a heretic." Hirale commented with a laugh.

"Don't they _already_ think that?" Aydienne snorted. "I wandered away from them to read a human's study on the Dread Wolf after all."

"Good point." The hunter smiled. He looked at the book again and then back to her. "Where did you get this anyway?"

"It was one of the books Felassan gave me the last time we saw him."

Felassan had been one of the elders that suggested Aydienne's original clan trade her to Clan Lavellan rather than turn her away. Though he was Dalish, he hadn't been part of either one of the clans, but he often visited between them. He was more of the lone wolf than a pack elf.

When her previous Keeper had considered kicking her out, Aydienne turned to Felassan to let her travel with him but he declined. She begged and begged, but he told her he had business that wouldn't permit her to follow. She couldn't begin to understand what he meant, but she did as she was told. Luckily, he was quite persuasive and it was agreed she would go to Clan Lavellan. Afterwards, Felassan would occasionally visit and bring Aydienne books he found on his travels.

"But that was two years ago!" Hirale exclaimed. "He hasn't visited our clan since he traveled to Orlais. I'm sure you've read this book by _now_."

"Of course I have. It's one of my favorites so I read it often." Aydienne said. "I can't wait for the next Arlathvhen. I do miss him." Her eyes twinkled with bright wonder. "I can't wait to hear of his adventures in Orlais. Orlesian life sounds so… grand."

"Or backwards." Hirale suggested as his eyebrows had knitted themselves caustically along the brow. "Don't they kill each other at the drop of a hat?"

"I think they _have_ killed someone over dropping a hat." Aydienne mused, running a finger over her lips in thought. "But I mean the gowns and the fancy balls. Ooh, and the Game!"

Aydienne's eyes glossed over as she imagined maneuvering through the court. Hirale's blank stare indicated that he hadn't the slightest clue what that meant and Aydienne was more than happy to explain. "The tactical dance one has to play whilst maintaining a regal demeanor and poise. Fail at the Game and you die. How splendid it would be to attend one of their balls!"

"Sure, I'd _love_ being called knife-ear behind my back while pandering to snobby nobles and simultaneously wondering if I've offended anyone to the point of assassination." Hirale said sarcastically.

Aydienne made a face but decided to change the subject with a wave of her hand. "Enough about that. You're back early. How was your hunt?"

" _Excellent_! Even for a short hunt we got a great haul." Hirale lit up, alien eyes even wider than before. Hirale regaled her of the details of their hunt, embellishing stories just to see her smile light up. Nearly an hour had passed as he fed her story after story, the sun was the edge of the horizon for nightfall.

"Did you see any templars or mages?"

"A few, but we had no problem picking them off." Hirale answered, his cavalier tone bragging for him so he wouldn't need to explain further. "They had some good stuff too." He pulled out a few items from his pack, mostly junk but with some trade worth. Hirale shrugged as Aydienne glanced over the loot. "They didn't have any books on them, otherwise I would have brought them for you."

"That's alright, da'mi." She said, but her brow creased restlessly. "It doesn't look like this fight between the mages and templars is coming to pass any time soon." She sighed and leaned back against the tree with Hirale. "The Keeper has been in council with the elders for the past day or so trying to decide what to do about it."

"I don't understand why we'd have to do _anything_ about it at all." Hirale stated reflexively, mentally kicking himself when he saw the look on Aydienne's face, a lecture most assuredly about to be launched in the warrior's direction.

"Because if this war continues, it's only a matter of time before it reaches us. It's already getting too close for comfort. If it continues, it won't just be a human problem anymore."

Hirale snorted and nudged her, hoping to relieve the tension. "I can't wait for you to have kids, you have the perfect scolding face for them."

"Oh hush, da'mi." She said, as her expression remained serious. "Everything in life has a cause and effect. We can't ignore that. Whatever happens in the human world will eventually have an effect on us, probably negative if it's them warring amongst themselves."

"That's fair. Only Blights really bring people together." Hirale paused, hearing footsteps approaching. He stood up and drew his axe, though Aydienne stayed perfectly still on the ground. Twigs snapped as the footsteps came closer, shortly followed by the manifestation of a familiar, and unwanted, voice.

"The craft master said I would find you two here." The Keeper's second apprentice, Thelnarel, came walking casually out of the woods.

Thelnarel was a vicious man with cold steel eyes. His posture was always solid and threatening, as if daring others to take him on. His blood red vallaslin, symbolizing homage to Elgar'nan, covered half of his face. Charcoaled dreads were pulled back into a long tress that nearly reached past the small of his back. He was one of the taller elves among the clan, towering over with broad shoulders. If he hadn't been born with magical abilities, he would probably be a thriving hunter by now instead of the Keeper's second apprentice.

Although he and Aydienne were apprentices, the two acted more like rivals than close comrades. Before Aydienne had been switched to their clan, he was originally in line to be the first, but couldn't match up to Aydienne's natural abilities and knowledge. This made her the object of his desire and envy simultaneously.

He feigned fear at the sight of Hirale's drawn weapon. "Oh no, please don't run me through!" Hirale's ears flattened and he put his weapon away. Thelnarel chuckled and added, "I hope I didn't ruin your romantic afternoon together."

"I doubt that." Hirale grunted.

"What do you want, Tael?" Aydienne asked. The other apprentice approached them so he was standing in between the two. He was grinning in the slimiest way feasible, as was his trademark.

"The Keeper wanted me to bring the two of you back to camp." Thelnarel answered. He extended a hand to Aydienne to help her up, but she stood up on her own with leveled, irritated ears. "She and the elders are calling a meeting for the entire clan."

"The entire clan?" Hirale echoed curiously, exchanging pensive looks with Aydienne.

"The Keeper must have decided how we're to handle the templars and mages." She concluded.

"Yes, yes." Thelnarel dismissed, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently. "I'm sure she's going to tell us to involve ourselves in this pointless shemlen fight."

"It _isn't_ pointless, Tael." Aydienne said. The other apprentice began to open his mouth but Aydienne held up her hand. "But let's discuss this with the rest of the clan rather than getting into it here." If there was a side to take, Thelnarel surely took any opposition to Aydienne and would make a spectacle of it. She threw him a mockingly sweet smile. "We're wanted after all."

"Fine." Thelnarel huffed and turned toward the camp. When the two hadn't budged in the slightest, he turned back to them, annoyed. "Are you coming?"

"Yes, yes, we'll be there shortly." Hirale said hurriedly, waving him off flippantly. "Run along, we don't need you to chaperone us, _Tael_."

Thelnarel muttered angrily in Elven and disappeared into the trees toward the camp. The two waited for a few minutes, listening to his footsteps vanish with distance and replaced with the forest sounds once again.

"He's such a prick." Hirale finally said, glaring off after the other apprentice. "If there is _any_ reason for you to never leave this clan, it'd be to keep him from ever becoming Keeper."

Aydienne forced a laugh as her eyes trailed after Thelnarel, a churning uneasiness in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

The clan meeting had not gone as smoothly as the Keeper had hoped. When she announced they would need to involve themselves, she was met with a mass of unhappy disagreements and outrage, all of which were led by Thelnarel.

"I don't know why we're involving ourselves in shemlen problems, Keeper!" Thelnarel boomed, eager to have his opinion be the loudest before Aydienne could interject. It was strong and powerful; beckoning other clan members in agreement. "They wouldn't offer _us_ aid if we were fighting amongst our clans!"

"That's not the point." Aydienne started, but her voice was drowned out as more shouts from her clanmates erupted.

"They'd sooner imprison us in those ghastly alienages!"

"Or sell us to Tevinter as slaves!"

"It'll be the Exalted March all over again!"

"The Divine Conclave is to be the means to resolve the conflict between templars and mages." Aydienne was practically shouting to be heard over the others and they quickly hushed, surprised at the anger in her tone. She relaxed, her voice leveling out. "I understand your concern, all of you. This fight may not be our problem-"

"Then let the shem fight amongst themselves." Thelnarel suggested quickly, earning cheers of agreement from many clanmates. Aydienne gave him a sharp look, fire colliding against steel in a glaring match. The Keeper began to open her mouth both to response and to calm her apprentices down, but Aydienne beat her to it.

"If the fight continues, what's to stop it from reaching our clan? Or other clans?" Aydienne challenged, her expression daring Thelnarel to debate her.

"We have handled those that have come too close thus far." Thelnarel declared and more cheers from his supporters rang in the air as if to intimidate Aydienne from her soapbox. They were not so fortunate in that attempt.

"Yes, but while our hunters are skilled, we are ill prepared for a war against either mages or templars." Aydienne continued. A palpable stillness fell over the clan as they considered her words, only a few murmurs under breath hung in the air. "Templar armor is crafted to handle massive amounts of punishment and these mages have been studying magic for years, in many different factions. With our clans spread so far apart, we do not have the numbers nor the power to rival an entire horde of either side should the fighting get any closer."

"And I doubt they would be so careful as to leave us out of it." Hirale chimed in, earning quite a few nods of agreement. While he didn't feel as passionately as she, Hirale would always come to her aid. He noticed the Keeper gave him an indescribable reflective look, the gears churning in her head as she studied him.

 _Did I say something wrong?_

Aydienne gave him a quick, thankful smile before continuing, her eyes glued to Thelnarel. "It would be _foolish_ to think what we've done against stragglers would compare to that of near armies. It would devastate our already diminishing numbers."

"Well, Sael, I-"

"That's enough, the both of you." The Keeper interjected as she stood up, a reproaching look tracing her face aimed at the two elves, both of which immediately fell embarrassingly quiet like children scolded by their mother.

"While I don't want to intervene in human affairs, as they have rarely proved favorably for our kind, it's become abundantly clear this problem cannot be ignored any longer. We need eyes on the inside of the Conclave, but I do not wish to risk all of our clan with a journey to the temple and nor do I wish for them to know of our infiltrator." Keeper Deshanna turned to look at the clan, her eyes scanning over them with regal wisdom. "I need only one of our own to make the journey for all of us, as one elf will easily be invisible to them."

Hirale glanced around, searching the faces for a potential candidate.

"Someone skilled."

 _Aydienne most likely._

"Someone level headed."

 _Definitely not either of the twins._

"Someone prepared to fight if called upon."

 _Thelnarel sounds perfect for that._

"I will send… Hirale."

 _Sounds – Wait, what?_

It was quiet amongst the elves as they shuffled their gaze around to look to Hirale. His violet eyes blinked a few times, dumbstruck and trying to process what had just been said. Staring at the Keeper, Hirale shook his head and pointed at himself, just to determine if he had heard right.

" _M-me_ , Keeper?"

"Yes." Deshanna answered. The silence lingered for a few more moments before the twins shouted in agreement, leading the other hunters into a frenzy of congratulations that engulfed the entire clan. Palms patted him briskly on the back while many hunters flung their arms around him excitedly.

Both the apprentices stared flabbergasted, barely able to move themselves from their spot. Aydienne snapped to attention and spun around to look at the Keeper. Her eyes flickered protectively, urgent and desperate.

"Keeper, no." Aydienne interjected.

 _Send me, not him._

"I'm your first. _I_ should go."

"I have made up my mind, Sael." The Keeper answered simply. The Keeper didn't look at her. "I will be sending Hirale as he is well equipped to handle anything that may happen."

"But Keeper-"

"This is not up for discussion." The Keeper's voice was like steel, ending the argument from Aydienne as she turned to look at the hunter. "Hirale, I expect you to be ready for your journey in less than an hour. The Divine Conclave takes place in a few days and it is vital you do not waste any time getting there."

"Understood, Amelan." Hirale said with a bow, his tone reluctant rather than excited.

Aydienne watched sullenly as the whole of the clan poured out, catching the unenthusiastic eyes of Hirale as the twins pulled him out of the tent. Thelnarel joined the clan as they exited, throwing Aydienne a self-satisfied look as he left. A few minutes passed before everyone but the apprentice was with the Keeper, who had decided to take a seat on her cot.

"Keeper, why didn't you choose me to go?" Aydienne asked finally.

"Da'len, it's important you stay here. Your training is nearly complete and when the next Arlathvhen is called, you'll be taking my place as Keeper."

"That's not for another few years." Aydienne reasoned. "And I've read more about shemlen culture and I could blend in better than Hirale."

While she had the utmost faith in Hirale to succeed in the task at hand, Aydienne wanted nothing more than to go instead. The call to adventure beckoning in her chest, while Hirale never wanted anything more than to quietly enjoy his clan life. She wouldn't have another chance to adventure into the world once she became the Keeper.

"He doesn't even _want_ to go, but I could go and learn so much from this." Aydienne was practically begging.

"You are correct."

"Then why not _me_ , Keeper?" She exclaimed. Her patience was wearing thin. "Surely, it can't be just that I need to continue my training to the point you'd overlook the benefit of sending me."

The Keeper sighed and looked at her apprentice seriously.

"Da'len, I mean no disrespect, but Hirale is more admired by the Clan. Sending him will ease our clanmates minds and will inspire more cooperation from them." The Keeper was right and Aydienne knew that, but there was more to it; she could sense it. "And Hirale is very skilled with a weapon so he can better defend himself if need be."

 _That's hardly a good enough reason._

"I can form lightning storms with the clap of my hands." Aydienne stated, barely maintaining her composure. "I have magic and knowledge to defend me."

"Yes, but given the situation between the templars and the mages, if things were to go sideways they may mistake you as part of the rebellion and take you down." "Whereas, with Hirale, he has no magic and doesn't have any emblem of being sided with the templars or Chantry. He has a better chance of getting out of there than you do."

"But I can do this, Keeper."

"I don't doubt you, my dear." The Keeper's eyes were unreadable and it drove Aydienne mad. "But I have already made my decision."

"But-"

" _Enough_ , da'len."

"Yes, Amelan." Aydienne breathed, bowing her head respectfully to her elder. She could get caught up in her own passion that she forgot to be tactful. "I meant no disrespect."

The Keeper placed a hand on her shoulder. Aydienne looked up to her, only to be met by a lighthearted smile. "Go to Hirale. I'm sure he wants to spend the last few moments in the clan with you." Aydienne nodded and left without another word.

Keeper Deshanna stared after her apprentice and heaved a heavy sigh. In truth, Keeper Deshanna was being selfish by not sending her. She saw Aydienne as the daughter she never had and she knew that if Aydienne were to leave the clan, with a wanderlust as grand as hers, she would never return to simple clan life.

* * *

"It's completely unfair." Aydienne's voice rang from outside of the aravel. Hirale shook his head before sliding his binder on, trapping inconvenient breasts behind soft Halla leather. He pulled his light armored breastplate over his head and secured it to his chest, adjusting the straps tightly.

"-I should be the one to go! I'm the Keeper's first after all." Aydienne continued, though Hirale was only half listening as he calculated how many potions he would need for the trip against how many he could actually fit in his pack.

 _Health poultice._ He grabbed a few red flasks.

 _Stamina drought._ He grabbed three yellow flasks.

"-I'm more than capable of handling this-"

 _Testosterone potion._ He paused for a moment, biting his lip while estimating necessity. _The trip shouldn't take that long._ While he wanted to be prepared, over packing would only slow him down but if he missed a couple doses it could ruin his therapy. He grabbed two flasks.

"-And Thelnarel's smug face when she didn't pick me-"

Hirale jumped out of the aravel with his pack in hand. Aydienne was leaning against it, Hirale's battle-axe sizing her up. She spoke with her hands, flailing them around madly as she complained, her words racing from her lips.

"I actually prefer it this way." Hirale admitted, a coy smile playing on his lips. Aydienne's face couldn't have curdled any more if she tried.

"Of course _you_ do." She scoffed. Hirale chuckled, soft clanks warbled from the bag as he pulled the strap over his head and tucked it away securely. Aydienne's expression softened. "Do you have enough medication for the trip?"

"I have two flasks."

"Are you sure that's enough? Do you need me to make more?"

"It should be a short trip." Hirale reasoned aloud, it was more so to ease his own indecision than Aydienne's. He wouldn't be travelling with a mount, as it would draw too much attention to him when he got closer to the temple, so the less he needed to carry was for the better. "I don't intend to be away from the clan for long."

"How often plans change, da'mi." Aydienne murmured. Hirale lifted his axe and secured it to his back. Aydienne watched quietly, contemplating, as he tightened the weapon. "Did you know she actually said that she's sending you because you're more popular with the clan?"

" _Me_? Popular? Creators _no_!" Hirale laughed. The two began walking towards the food storage tent to stock up for the trip.

"Don't be so glib."

"I'm not." Hirale waved a hand at her. "If the Keeper is sending me, it's because of what I can offer the mission and not out of favoritism. Besides, I think it'll be safer if I go." The look on Aydienne's face demanded his reasoning. Hirale sighed. "I'm battle ready whereas you are not."

"I have studied many tactical-"

" _Studied_ and action are two very different things, da'avise."

"Oh really?" Aydienne rounded on him, stopping him in his tracks as she stood in front of him. "I'm more versed in human culture so I'm less likely to offend. And if we're concerned about my abilities to protect myself, may I remind you how I can conjure a storm with a clap of my hands?" Electricity danced around her palms to emphasize a point she didn't need to reiterate to him.

"Yes, yes, I know." Hirale said, waving his hand to calm her. He continued once the lightning had dissipated from her palms. "Aydienne, you're a _mage_ in shem eyes. If something were to go wrong, I don't doubt their templars would cut you down."

"I could say the same about you." She said pointedly before adding snappishly, "And you're _not_ a mage."

Hirale sighed, looking at his dear friend with such exhaustion. Aydienne could wield words better than any blade and she had the knowledge to back herself up in any case; but sometimes she could be so stubborn.

"Yes, but I'm less likely to provoke hostility simply by not being a mage." Hirale found his main point of argument and stuck to it. "Besides, with a sharp tongue like that, you're bound to rub someone the wrong way. At least I can be discreet."

Hirale laughed as Aydienne muttered elven curses, the two of them continued walking. They came up to the elven woman in charge of the cookery, Hirale quickly made an order and she left to fetch it for him.

"But the Keeper didn't even _consider_ sending me, da'mi." Aydienne took a sharp, annoyed breath through her nose before exhaling the frustration. "That's how little faith she has in me."

"Maybe if you didn't argue with her on everything she taught you." Hirale suggested, the woman returned and placed a neatly wrapped bag a food in his hands.

"I don't argue on _everything_ -"

"Most things-"

"I just don't see the harm in questioning what we _think_ we know." Aydienne said simply. Hirale nodded his thanks to the woman and the two began toward the edge of camp where a party of clanmates was waiting to wish him luck and goodbye. "Stories get changed over time and who's to say we haven't changed details over the centuries?"

"Look, I'm not saying you're wrong, but consider being a little less vocal while I'm gone. Especially with Thelnarel sniffing around." Hirale said as he glanced over to the campfire pit where Thelnarel was sitting, clearly refusing to bid Hirale well wishes for the trip.

"I can handle him just fine."

"I know you hate to hear it, but the Keeper is right. You're not the most liked person here and Thelnarel is more liked than I want to give him credit for." Aydienne considered it thoughtfully. "He could easily manipulate others to fight your authority so don't give him ammunition."

"This would all be easier if I was the one going."

"Yes, but you'd never come back." Hirale joked, there was a slight twinge of sadness that suggested even he knew there was some truth to it.

"I could say the same for you right now." Aydienne suggested playfully, trying to steer clear of _that_ conversation. " _You're_ the one leaving the clan."

"I'm not going because I _want_ to leave the clan." Hirale reasoned. They were coming closer to the edge of camp, the rest of the elves in clear view. He slowed his pace to keep their conversation private. Aydienne matched his pace.

"I'm going because I'm needed to protect my clan. You're right, this war will eventually become our problem, if there's any hope for us to avoid it, I'll do what I can." Aydienne looked at him incredulously. He smiled and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "And as soon as I get the information we need, I'll hightail it out of there on the first Halla I find."

Aydienne sighed, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at him despondently. "You have permission to leave the clan and have this fantastic adventure, and your only focus is to come back as soon as possible."

"My home is here." Hirale stated. "There's nothing out there that draws my attention away."

"You squander your luck, da'mi." Aydienne mumbled.

"Creators give me luck to return in one piece." Hirale joked, but Aydienne's pursed lips indicated he wasn't the least bit funny. "Da'avise, I have a duty to my clan. As do you. You're the Keeper's first apprentice."

"She can find other, more _agreeable_ , apprentices." Aydienne's eyes wandered to the nearby fire pit where laughter erupted around Thelnarel.

"Mythal knows he's just hoping you'll step down so he can be the Keeper's first." Hirale laughed, earning glances from the nearby party that quickly rotted into sneers once they caught on he was laughing at them. "He isn't the best for our clan, Aydienne. Everyone knows that. He's impulsive and vindictive. Traits not becoming of a Keeper."

 _But he wants it more than I do._ Aydienne thought for a moment, her chest aching and her shoulders heavy.

"Look, I don't want to argue any more before I leave. It wasn't my choice, but I'm happy with the Keeper's decision." Hirale's voice softened, a rare instance that only Aydienne was accustomed to seeing. "If anything were to happen to you-"

"And you think it'd be easier for me to handle anything happening to you?" Aydienne contested. Always prepared for a debate. "I'm as much afraid for you as you are for me, da'mi."

The clan gathered at the end of the camp, lines of elven hunters shook Hirale's hands and gave him pats on the back, words of luck and return leaving their lips with every handshake. Some tears were shed, as it's always hard to allow one of their own into the heat of danger, even if Hirale welcomed danger without batting an eye.

"Good luck, da'len." The Keeper smiled to him as he walked to her, hugging him lightly. Pulling away, she left her palms on his shoulders, her face serious and knowing. "Remember, we may have interacted with the shemlen more so than other clans, but that doesn't mean we know everything. Be wise."

"Of course, Amelan." Hirale assured and her hands slipped away from his shoulders. He turned to Aydienne who, once he was free of any more of the clan's hands, threw her arms around him; embracing him so tightly that he peeped in surprise, but he returned the squeeze nonetheless.

"Be careful, da'mi." She whispered into his ear, her eyes tight to stave off any renegade tears threatening to break free. Hirale nuzzled the nape of her neck, breathing in deeply to steady his own wave of emotions ebbing on the edge of eruption. Pulling away, she mussed the fluff of blonde hair atop his neat undercut. "Stay safe and stay hidden."

"I'm an _elf_ , Aydienne." Hirale joked with a husky chuckle. "They'll barely even know I'm there."

* * *

Nearly a week later, the Divine Conclave was finally here.

Miles and miles of mages and templars trudged single file towards the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They kept at a reasonable distance from one another so not to start any unnecessary fighting on holy ground. They all marched silently, except of course for the clanking of templar armor against sword and shield and the light whirring of magical staves entangled with the soft crushing steps of mage feet in snow. Though they said nothing, their glares behind helmet and cowl spoke volumes. The tension was palpable but they remained restrained.

Solas peered from the safety of the forest, keeping himself hidden amongst the shade of the trees. He was crouched down to avoid anyone seeing him, as he'd rather not be noticed. He wished he could get closer to hear the talks, but he wouldn't risk being part of the fray if one were to arise. He was almost certain one would.

 _I suppose I should make camp._ Solas thought finally.

He settled a little further in and made camp. A small fire was crackling as it warmed his meal. He began to set up cover for his bedroll when the quick pitter-patter of steps caught his attention. Solas instinctually cast a cloak barrier around himself and his camp to hide.

He snuffed out is fire quickly just before someone came rushing over, stopping just a few feet from where he was kneeling.

They weren't very tall, from what he could tell they weren't even as tall as him, but it was definitely not a dwarf. They were dressed in thick winter wear, making them appear exceptionally padded all around. A large battle-axe was strapped firmly to their back, eliminating the possibility they were a mage, and they didn't carry a Chantry emblem either.

 _Not a templar either._ Solas thought as he studied them from the safety of his cloak.

They tarried for a moment, watching the lines of templars and mages, before removing their hood, exposing their dark elven face.

 _A Dalish._ Solas concluded, his eyes considered the twist and turns of the pale vallaslin on his face. Solas looked around for a moment, but didn't see any other Dalish hunters following him. _But he appears alone._

 _Odd._

The Dalish paused, his nose twitching to the smell of a burning fire he couldn't see. Solas eyed his campfire; mentally berating himself for not considering it would give him away.

The elf raised an eyebrow as he noticed fresh footprints near his feet, Solas' from just moments before. Had he been expecting the intrusion, Solas would have made more of an effort to hide his footprints and the scent of his fire. The Dalish knelt down, surveying the imprints carefully as one hand slipped back toward his battle-axe. Solas reflexively twisted his fingers tighter around the halt of his staff, a small creek of leather against skin chirped and he tensed.

His ears twitched and the elf shot a look in Solas' direction. He had a hunter's gaze, steady and encompassing, his large purple eyes were searching for him, but luckily the barrier kept them impaired. But the hunter instinct wasn't as easily swayed. His brow furrowed darkly, his hand reaching out toward Solas' barrier, but before he could touch it, a horn sounded in the distance.

He stopped.

It rang three times from the temple, announcing the talks were to begin soon. He dropped his hand, forgetting the previous suspicion as he gazed out at the templars and mages, all of whom had quickened their pace toward the temple.

He looked back in Solas' direction for a moment, eyes darting around one last time for any sign of what he sensed. Reluctantly, he gave up and took off toward the temple; clearly he had more pressing matters to attend to. Solas exhaled, realizing that he had forgotten to breathe the entire time.

Solas stayed behind the barrier for a few more minutes to be sure he hadn't rounded back toward him as a trap before allowing it to dissipate around him.

"Curious."

It was a few hours later as Solas wandered the outskirts near them temple when the explosion sounded. There was a deafening boom as the sky cracked with a familiar green light, sending a pulse of energy through the entire temple in a blaze. A wall of air flew through the trees, bending and breaking many in its rush.

Solas' brow creased remorsefully as he gazed up at the sky as it crackled angrily. He heaved a sigh and began to walk toward it, knowing exactly what must be done.

* * *

Everything was dark and quiet.

Hirale could feel damp stone beneath him as he drifted into consciousness. Harsh crackling noises broke the silence, a vague pain shooting through him, but his body was too tender and his head throbbing too much for him to pay it any notice.

 _Get up._

Hirale stood up; his body stinging from top to bottom. Though they shook slightly, his muscles were still resilient in their strength, holding him up steadily. Smoke wafted around him but nothing felt warm, only cold and clammy. The air was thin making his head spin, the pressure of his sinuses threatening the onset of a bloody nose. Hirale's eyes tried to adjust, but everything around him looked distorted and shadowed. Wincing, he skimmed around trying to remember where he was, but nothing looked, if it _did_ look at all, familiar.

 _Where am I?_

Feet shuffled under him, his gaze drawn to a distant light that illuminated blurred lines of jagged rocks that towered like raggedly claws. The sky was green and all but empty; a floating city of black hovered in the distance. Hirale felt something nag at him as if it should have greater meaning to him now, but it didn't.

He pieced together steps that overlooked him; upon the top of the hill the light seemed to take the shape of a person, one that was urging him to come closer. Insistence fluttered around the silhouette, but Hirale's body seemed to barely move as she stepped toward it.

 _Is this a dream?_

 _Am I dead?_

A shrill chatter behind him snapped Hirale senses back to attention. When he turned to see what it was, his heart clenched within his chest. Huge spiders were charging at him; beady, hungry eyes fixated on him. His hand reached for his weapon but just groped air; the weapon was gone.

The spiders were getting closer.

 _Run!_

Hirale found all the strength he could muster and began to run as hard as he could up the stairs toward the light. He could hear his labored gasps of air, pounding his legs harder to move further and faster; his heartbeat pulsated in his ears. The chattering sounded closer, but he was almost to the top.

So close.

 _Almost there!_

Running.

Everything felt slowed as he reached the top. His fingertips fumbled for the extended hand, barely grazing an unexpectedly tangible grasp, before the light engulfed everything around him. Then almost as quickly, evaporated into darkness again.

Hirale felt as though he had been falling, but he couldn't imagine how or where. The air seemed to become thicker around him again, and before he knew it, he collided with solid stone. Panic still coursed through his veins, adrenaline paralyzing his muscles.

 _Are the spiders still coming?_

The smell of smoke wafted into his nostrils and the pop of fire tearing apart debris sounded. Wind howled around him and he shivered involuntarily to its tickle.

 _Where did the light go?_

He could hear shouting of men around him, clanks of swords against armor as they moved closer to him, but before Hirale could gather any more will to move, he collapsed into nothingness again.

* * *

 **So fun fact:** I named Hirale that way because I was joking about naming my male Inquisitor "Herald" so it would be like everyone was just calling him by his name the entire time. I landed on Hirale for one of my elf Inquisitors because I thought it was even funnier if the Inquisitor's name was similar to "Herald" and he would get annoyed at all these shemlen saying his name wrong.

Don't worry; I'm aware I'm the only one who finds myself funny.

Thank you for reading! Please review if you enjoyed it, constructive criticism is always welcome, but hate is not. As I'm a little rusty with writing fanfiction, I'll attempt to keep my postings pretty regular. Fingers crossed

In addition, I'd like to give credit and endless thanks for many of the Elvhen phrases to FenxShiral for their incredible work on deconstructing the Elvhen language. To find Project Elvhen /works/3553883/chapters/7825850 or visit their tumblr under the FenxShiral tag.

Ma serannas, Hahren!

 **Translations:**

Da'avise – (affectionate term) little flame.

Da'mi – (affectionate term) little sword.

Amelan – Keeper.

Hahren – Elder.

Sael – First.

Tael – Second.

Ma serranas – My thanks.


	2. Chapter One

Hey everyone!

Sorry about the lack of updating. Between school, derby practice, and work… Life happens, as you know. But here's a nice long chapter to help you through the hardship.

Thank you for following my story. I'll try to be better about updating more often as a lot of the chapters are already written; just transitions (like in roller derby) can be a pain to finish.

 **The Path that Leads Astray**

 **Chapter One**

* * *

It had only been a few days after Hirale's departure and Aydienne had decided life at the camp without him was completely intolerable. Hirale was the only one, other than the Keeper, she considered herself close to and it made it all the more awkward when she realized she had very little in common with her other clanmates.

Very few of the clan actually read anything and often they would get into heated debates with her over history. Many thought she was disrespectful for even questioning the traditional stories.

 _Dalish pride is more important than considering what might be wrong._ Aydienne resided.

Few barely spoke to her if they could avoid it. The twins would occasionally include her in conversation, if she happened to be around at the same time, but scarcely found things in common to discuss.

They often spoke of hunting strategies or who caught the biggest game, neither of which Aydienne had any interest or expertise in. And they were equally disinterested in listening to her revel in the books she was reading or the different cultural traditions between Orlais and Ferelden.

She decided to wander off from the camp after lessons with the Keeper to read by herself. She placed herself at the bottom of her regular tree outside of the camp and pulled out a book.

The quiet of the forest was more comforting than the silence of her clanmates, the soft breeze through the forest serenading her into a meditative calm. It was in this solitude, when she could be alone; she found herself the most at peace.

Unfortunately, that peace didn't last very long.

Thelnarel didn't attempt to quiet his steps as he came up to her. He purposefully stepped on every stick in order to disturb the quiet with a loud SNAP! Aydienne's temple throbbed irritably and her jaw went rigid.

"Reading some shemlen tomes again, _Sael_." He leered at her.

It was normally a pristine title, but it rolled off his tongue foul with malice. Aydienne ignored it as she usually did. She turned the page blithely, not giving him the dignity of eye contact.

"I've already finished what the Keeper wanted us to read, Tael." Aydienne answered. Her eyes blazed through sentences and sentences on sandy pages of parchment loosely bound together in a makeshift book, trying to block out the annoying prattle from the other apprentice. "I'm sure you have as well or else you wouldn't be here with _me_."

"I'll finish that later." He replied, waving it off carelessly. "I came to see how you're fairing without your beloved Hirale hovering over you."

"He _does_ have quite the knack for levitation." Aydienne agreed disinterestedly. She flipped another page, resting her cheek in her palm. "But I'm fairing alright, thank you for your concern."

There were a few minutes that passed that Thelnarel said nothing, he hadn't the transition he wanted to continue pestering her; though, that rarely deterred him for long. He leaned against the tree, picking at the bark obnoxiously to break her concentration.

"I'm surprised the Keeper hadn't sent you, though. _You_ are well versed in shemlen traditions after all." Thelnarel finally said. "One could say you're probably better suited to live with _them_ than you are with your own people." He added lightly, pretending as if he words weren't meant to sting.

But Aydienne knew better.

She cleared her throat. "One such as you?"

"Perhaps." He said nonchalantly eyeing his cuticles. "But you know it's true, Sael." Eyes shifted back to her, twinkling menacingly, but she just continued reading her book, lightly chewing the inside of her cheek to stave off any heated words that wanted to form. "You were practically foaming at the mouth with jealousy because Hirale got to go and not you."

Aydienne's ears twitched grouchily before residing on the fact she wasn't going to get any reading done with this chatterbox near her. She closed the book and looked at him, finding him grinning. She narrowed her eyes.

"Just because I'll challenge what we _think_ we know, doesn't mean I regard our clan with any less respect than you do, Tael." Aydienne said evenly, despite her boiling temper beneath the surface. "I want to find the answers and learn more about our history. I saw this as an opportunity to learn more for the betterment of the clan and our people."

 _Why are you explaining yourself to him?_

 _It's completely pointless._

"I would assume you would have seen it as an opportunity as well." Aydienne added, hoping to end the conversation there. She was not that fortuitous.

"An opportunity to abandon your people." Thelnarel accused passively. By the look on Aydienne's face, one would have thought he'd stolen her breeches and hung them from the highest tree for all the clan to see.

 _How dare he…_

"That's _not_ what I'm-"

Before she could finish, there was an echoing boom that sounded, muted by distance, immediately followed by a flurry of wind that burst past them. Debris flew wildly around them; Aydienne held her book close to her chest, head down and eyes closed to keep anything from blowing in her face.

Thelnarel was knocked clean off his feet and to the ground with a painful thump. Once the wind dissipated, Aydienne placed her book on the ground and started to climb the tree she had been sitting against. As she ascended, she could hear Thelnarel cursing loudly at the bottom and thrashing about as he got to his feet.

At the top of the tree, her eyes skimmed the landscape for anything strange, her gaze falling upon a distant green light tearing at the sky. The clouds swirled around it and lightning clapped from it, streams of energy igniting in various directions. It was too far to make out any details, but it was definitely a noticeable change in scenery.

Aydienne's heart stopped, her entire body stiffened.

It was too far to judge where it was for sure, but it was in the direction of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

"Hirale…"

* * *

The people of Haven were a complete mess after the explosion. Everyone was crying out in sorrow for the Most Holy and praying to the Maker for answers. Soldiers had scrambled all over the temple, searching for any survivors but only found one. A mysterious Dalish elf, neither mage nor templar, that had fallen out of the main rift.

When the soldiers brought this survivor into the Chantry prison, several were outraged. Many protested the imprisonment of the elf, demanding that he be killed or shipped off to Val Royeaux for judgment immediately.

The hands of the Divine, Sister Leliana and Seeker Cassandra, made it abundantly clear the prisoner would face judgment but not before they received answers. Most of the townspeople chose not to argue with either one of them as they were decorated heroes of Thedas and their authority demanded volumes of respect; and most people were intimidated just by looking at them.

Solas was not at all surprised at the suspicions gathered around the elf, as it was similar to the mistrust he was met with when he came to offer help to study the rifts. When he approached them, he surrendered his staff obediently and allowed them to keep a close watch on him. A strange, elven apostate coming to help them just after the holy temple exploded was a good reason for their wariness.

Although, he wasn't doing it out of the kindness of his heart, he understood it was the best way to get closer to the rifts than any and if that meant pandering to the sensibilities of humans, so be it.

Luckily, Sister Leliana vouched for him when Seeker Cassandra wanted to lock him up for questioning. Enough of the people at Haven had seen him prior to the explosion at the Conclave so for now he was not a suspect.

Seeker Cassandra ordered him to look over the prisoner, both to study the mark and to keep him alive long enough to be questioned. Fortunately, with a little bit of healing magic and minor wards, Solas was able to contain the mark for a short period of time; successfully keeping it from spreading and killing the prisoner.

Despite that, Cassandra was becoming quite belligerent to Solas as time was fleeting and he was finding few answers to closing the rifts. He theorized the rifts would close if they were close enough to the mark, but he wouldn't know until they secured a rift and brought the prisoner closer. The Seeker was not forthcoming with his possible theories and wanted solid answers, which only added to her aggression toward him.

The only thing Solas knew for sure was that the prisoner was the same Dalish elf he had seen prior to the explosion. While he didn't necessarily believe the elf had anything to do with what happened at the Conclave, Solas knew that if he mentioned it to either Seeker Cassandra or Sister Leliana, he would be considered as a possible accomplice.

 _Best not to rile up the Chantry folk with information they do not require._

"Please inform Seeker Cassandra that I'll be headed toward the temple to secure a rift." Solas announced to a scout as he made his way past the tavern.

The boy was barely in his teens and looked completely dumbfounded to be taking orders from a raggedy apostate, an elf of all things, but the boy nodded regardless and scurried off to find the Seeker.

This would be his last attempt to close any rifts. If his theory didn't prove true, he would need to find other means to undo this chaos, as he felt wholly responsible for it coming to pass.

"Where are you headed off to, Chuckles?" A playful voice came wafting into the air, interrupting his thoughts. Solas turned to see Varric strolling toward him out of the tavern. An ensemble of cheering and drunken shouts falling silent as the door drew closed.

He was a surface dwarf, clearly by how he carried himself without heavy dwarven pride. He wore a thick grey coat, underneath was a red tunic, embellished with golden designs and matching clasps, most of which were left unbutton along his chest to reveal an ungodly amount of chest hair. His blonde hair was pulled back into a small tail and his face was rugged with an outline of a five-o-clock shadow.

"The prisoner should be coming to any minute now." Solas answered. "The mark is stabilized for the time being, but it is eating away at its host. It would be wise to get the prisoner closer to a rift to study its effects." Varric waited patiently for the actual answer to his question. By now, he was familiar with Solas explaining things with long lectures. "I would like to secure a rift that the Seeker can bring him to."

"Let me guess." Varric's eyes trailed after the young scout headed toward the Chantry. "You didn't want to tell the Seeker yourself, then?"

"I didn't think it necessary as time is of the essence."

"Yeah, she can be pretty aggressive. The less time you spend with her will be safer for you." Varric laughed, but only received a nod of agreement from the elf. "I'll come with you." It was more of a statement than an offer.

"I assure you, Master Tethras, I do not require your help." Solas said kindly, clearing his throat. While Varric was an excellent marksman, it would be easier for Solas to slip away if necessary if fewer people who knew him by name were around.

"Couldn't hurt, Chuckles." Varric shrugged. He patted his crossbow affectionately. "Besides, Bianca could use the fresh air and the tavern is pretty dull now."

"I suppose…" Solas glanced through the window of the tavern, noting a man pinned to a wall with an arrow through his coat, trying to pull it out of the wood. He was shouting loudly, but the other patrons seemed to ignore him. "Then we should be off."

"After you." Varric said with a curtsy.

* * *

A hissing pain from his palm woke Hirale.

He opened his eyes slowly, his mind grasping at his surroundings to make sense of where he was and what had happened. He was on his knees in a stone basement, too dark to know for sure, but he assumed it was a dungeon, given his wrists were shackled together. He could see reflections of light on swords, shadowy figures stood around him every which way, weapons pointed at him, ready to cut him down at a moment's notice.

Hirale's heart pounded heavily in his chest. He could feel an incessant tingling from his left hand, when he turned it over to see, it flashed a violent, green light and sent pin needles through his arm, constricting every muscle with each flicker. He gasped, surprised, shutting his eyes to adjust from the bright light and to bear the pain.

His ears twitched as the door in front of him slammed open and two shemlen women burst through. The first walked quickly to him, dressed from head to toe in thick armor with purple leather clinging tightly to her muscular arms. An emblem of an eye on fire adorned the front and back of her iron breastplate.

 _Where do I know that?_

Her lips were full and soured and her face was like chiseled bronze, the only chip in its architecture was a scar along her left jawline, speaking volumes to her warrior experience. Her eyes were dark and hard, residing beneath thin, livid eyebrows. Her hair was short and quaffed messily to one side; a single long braid was tied around the top like a crooked crown.

She circled him, taking slow agonizing steps so he could see her sword reflect against the moonlight. The metal of her boots on stone made her steps sound weighted and threatening, not that her glare hadn't already done that job for her.

The other woman came into the light, wearing a long chainmail coat that looked sheen and smooth. She had large leather gloves and polished, iron armor boots that reached far past her knees, though she made less noise than her associate. Strands of red hair appeared around her pale face, blue eyes studied him carefully, but she didn't say a word. A thick purple scarf was wrapped around her head and shoulders, tied in place by two circular metal clips. On her chest was metallic embroidery with the same flaming eye insignia as the other woman.

The symbol became more familiar the longer Hirale looked at it.

 _Chantry._

The very thought of the Chantry's involvement with his imprisonment left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn't a mage, but he was by far no Andrastian and humans tend to do terrible things in the name of Andraste.

The first woman stopped behind him, leaning forward, close to his ear.

"Give me a good reason I shouldn't kill you now." Her accent was thick and strange to him, he was never good at placing accents, but he knew it wasn't a Ferelden one in the least. She stood up and began to walk around him again, slowly. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead."

She stopped in front of him, the two women looked at him expectantly, mistrust written all over their faces. He knew where this was going.

"Except for _you_."

"And you think I'm responsible for it." Hirale stated, thoroughly unsurprised. Leave it to humans to think an elf is always the epicenter for blame.

"Explain _this_." The woman grabbed Hirale's hand and on cue, the mark flashed again painfully, lighting the entire room. Hirale gritted his teeth and held in his groan from the pain, trying to squash any perceived weakness.

Hirale's mind grasped every corner of his memory for answers but found nothing in return. The woman threw his hand back down at him, the shackles clanked loudly.

"I… I can't." He confessed.

 _I don't remember anything that happened._

 _How did I even get here?_

He remembered leaving his clan and heading to the Conclave. And he remembered sneaking in, but then all memories vanished and he could only recall his dream with the woman made of light. But that sounded completely mad and the shemlen woman looked uninterested in hearing outlandish tales.

"What do you mean you _can't_?" The woman's harsh demand brought him back to attention.

 _What could it hurt?_

"I don't know what _that_ is or how it got there-"

"You're _lying_!" Her voice was venomous as she grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him hard enough to give him whiplash.

"We need him, Cassandra." The redhead finally spoke, pulling the woman away from him and giving her a look. Cassandra, as she was called, stood back, annoyed with her counterpart; but she didn't argue.

"Whatever you _think_ I did, I'm innocent." Hirale spat, having no patience for their little good-cop-bad-cop routine. He needed to find a way out of here, to get back to his clan and away from these shemlen. "Let me go."

 _I need to get out of here._

 _I need to get back home._

"Do you remember what happened?" The redhead asked. Her accent was also strange to him but a little less harsh in its delivery. It took him a few moments to realize it was Orlesian and he crinkled his nose. Their eyes were locked, but she didn't seem to be goading him, just seeking answers. "How this began?"

 _They're going to think I'm crazy._ Hirale thought before exhaling. "I remember running. _Things_ were chasing me… Spiders… and then… there was a woman?"

"A woman?" she echoed, her face smoothed out its original austerity.

"Yes. She was made of light and was at the top of a hill. She reached out to me, but then…" Hirale trailed off, trying to piece the words together to describe everything he could recall, but failed, as his eloquence was never his strong suit. "Look, I'm telling the truth. I don't know how-"

Cassandra turned her back to him, speaking in a hushed tone to her companion, as if Hirale's elven hearing couldn't pick up on the low frequency.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana." Cassandra commanded quietly. "We will be there shortly."

The red head nodded and left swiftly without another word. Cassandra turned to Hirale again, undoing the lock and pulling him toward the door and up the stairway. His hands were still bound by rope that Cassandra held the leash end to.

They walked up the stairs, revealing themselves to be in a Chantry. Numerous people were gathered in different corners, praying and sobbing by candlelight. When Hirale came into view, their faces turned sour and they hissed curses under their breath at him. Hirale held his head high, undeterred by the whispers of the shemlen.

"What _did_ happen?" Hirale finally asked.

It was a surprise that Cassandra actually looked at him, Hirale assumed she would have ignored him. Her eyes studied him for a second, searching for the correct words to explain, but when she couldn't find them, she sighed.

"It… will be easier to show you."

Cassandra pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the Chantry and a gust of snowy wind blew past them, followed by an unnatural, bright green glow. They stepped out of the Chantry to reveal a swirl of green energy twisting the clouds into a slow tornado. Large flaming rocks and spikes of electrical energy spilled from its mouth. At the base was the remainder of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, only ruins of its former glory.

"Was that the Temple?" Hirale breathed, his chest grew tighter and his legs felt weak underneath him. Violet eyes stared up at the green sky in terrified awe. "What _is_ that?"

"We call it The Breach." Cassandra started. "It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour." As if it heard her, the Breach flickered and clapped loudly like an angry storm. "It's not the only such rift, but it _is_ the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."

"An explosion can do _that_?" Hirale whispered disbelievingly, his eyes captivated by the vortex in the sky.

"This one did." Cassandra answered. "Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world."

The Breach bellowed as it grew in the sky, causing the mark on Hirale's hand to flicker and grow as well. This time, he couldn't stifle his shriek. Pain was everywhere, like knives carving into his skin. The agony was getting worse. It felt like the Breach was pulling the mark towards it but also tearing his skin from the exertion of its magnitude. On his knees, he balled his fist and tried to hold onto his wrist to alleviate the sting, but it didn't help in the slightest.

"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it _is_ killing you." Cassandra informed him, taking a knee. Clutching his wrist tightly he met her eyes. "It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

"So I don't really have a choice then?" Hirale snapped more annoyed at the pain than at her. The throbbing in his palm was grating as the mark chewed a bigger hole into his skin. All he wanted to do was to return home and be done with this; he knew it couldn't be that simple.

 _It never is._

Cassandra looked at him disapprovingly, but Hirale didn't care.

" _None_ of us has a choice." Cassandra stated before helping him to his feet and the two trudged along the dirt path of Haven. The townspeople were shooting him malicious looks and whispering amongst one another. Hirale matched their looks with threatening ones of his own; though he would have been more intimidating if he weren't tied up and he had his weapon.

"They have decided your guilt. They need it to justify how this could happen."

"And who better than to take the blame than the strange Dalish elf, right?" Hirale said bitterly, still glaring daggers at any townspeople that dared to give him dirty looks. Cassandra noticed and rolled her eyes.

"The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was her idea." Cassandra explained as they passed through the town. "It was a chance for peace between mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together and now they are dead. We lash out, like the sky, but we must think beyond ourselves, as she did at least until the Breach is sealed."

Cassandra pulled out a knife that she had hidden, turning to Hirale and grabbing his wrists. She slid the knife through the rope, cutting them through with one swoop. Hirale rubbed his wrists hesitantly but didn't keep his eyes off of the human.

"There _will_ be a trial. I can promise no more." Cassandra stated. "Come. It is not far."

"I assume that's not where we're headed right now though." Hirale remarked carefully. He considered making a break for it, but the pulsating mark on his palm reminded him that he probably didn't have long to live anyway. "You're releasing me?"

"You're no good to me tied up." Cassandra answered. She didn't turn back to look at him, but kept walking toward the closed gate at the end of the bridge. "Besides, your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach itself so we can determine if it'll help with sealing the larger one." Cassandra slowed when they came to the gate, she barked orders to the soldiers manning it and they obliged quickly.

Hirale took lead, assuming the dirt path was the way to go, without any complaint from Cassandra. She followed closely behind him, probably to ensure he wouldn't be able to run away now that he was free from his shackles. A few soldiers strode past them, retreating back to Haven through the burning surroundings.

The sky crackled again, sending another wave of pain through Hirale's hand to the rest of his body, dragging him down with the needling. Doubling over, Hirale strained to keep himself from shaking and as the pain faded, Cassandra helped pull him to his feet. Hirale was surprised by her kindness, though suspected she simply wanted to get moving.

"The pulses are coming faster now." Cassandra's voice became startlingly soft, though her face remained stern; she gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "We must hurry."

His face must have given his astonishment away because she quickly moved her hands away from him and turned toward the path once again. Hirale caught his breath and quickly found himself back to her side, the two jogging lightly toward a stone archway and its bridge.

"How _did_ I survive the blast?" Hirale asked, hoping her sudden kindness would allow for some answers. "It's not every day you black out and wake up to chaos."

"They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious." Cassandra answered carefully, though Hirale couldn't decide if it was because of disbelief or because she just didn't actually want to answer him. "They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was but-"

Just as they came halfway across the bridge, a large rock came hurtling down and destroying the bridge. The scouts were either propelled into the air or crushed immediately under falling bricks. The bridge gave way beneath Hirale, sending he and Cassandra tumbling down and onto frozen lake water.

Hirale pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, still trying to recover. Cassandra had fallen a few feet away from him, rubbing her head delicately as she stood up.

There was a crash of green light bursting through the trees and hitting hard into the frozen lake. A crystal like energy burst from the crash, creating a dark, slinky creature with claws sharper than any dagger Hirale had ever seen.

What could have been its head was wrapped up by a thick, glossy armor, and underneath its body looked as though the original skin had been peeled off, revealing putrid indigo muscle and throbbing veins. It's lower body dissipated into blackened smoke, twisting with flashes of energy mimicking the twist and turn of lightning.

It was the most horrifying thing Hirale had ever seen. He could feel his entire body pumping with fear and adrenaline, though he couldn't get his feet to move from their spot. He barely heard Cassandra bark an order at him before she held her shield up, sword ready, and charged straight for the monster.

Almost instantly after, another crack of green light emerged from the frozen water near him. Smoke began to encircle the spot as another monster began to materialize in front of him.

Hirale looked around quickly, desperately, trying to find anything he could use to defend himself. His eyes fell upon a large, albeit crude, battle maul and his hands hastily took hold of it. It wasn't nearly as heavy as his original battle-axe and the halt was awkward in his grip.

 _It'll have to do._

Hirale rushed toward the monster, dodging to the side as it swiped at him before bringing the maul down hard on top of it. Before it could regroup, Hirale slammed the maul into its head and the creature let out a maddening screech of pain as its skull cracked in two.

A satisfied smirk crept upon his lips and he glanced over to see Cassandra, making short work of the other demon. She ran it through for a final blow, the creature singing out in agony as it evaporated.

"It's over." Hirale sighed, walking over to Cassandra as he scoped the area for any other shades to appear. But his relief was cut short when Cassandra rounded on him, her weapon pointed at him. Instinctually, Hirale's posture fell into a battle stance and he held his weapon in a defensive position.

"Drop your weapon." Cassandra growled. Dark eyes narrowed at him. " _Now_."

"A demon attacked me." Hirale snapped at her, shooting her a glare in return. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You don't _need_ to fight." Cassandra said stubbornly. She took a step toward him, but Hirale didn't budge. While Cassandra was clearly trained better than he, Hirale knew she still needed him; that was the only thing keeping him alive. "Put the weapon down. I won't ask again."

Hirale couldn't contain a snide laugh. "Look, _shem_ , if you're going to lead me through a demon-infested valley, you're going to have to trust me."

"Give me one good reason I should."

"Because my life is on the line." Hirale challenged. Their eyes locked in a battle of will. "Look, if I was going to run, I would have the moment you cut me loose."

Cassandra kept her eyes narrowed, her stance unwaveringly solid. Hirale considered putting his weapon away, but she didn't appear to agree with him in the slightest.

 _She's not going to go for that._

Cassandra sighed, "You're right."

Hirale stared blankly for a moment before blurting out, "I-I am?"

Cassandra sheathed her sword and Hirale carefully strapped the maul to his back. "I cannot protect you and I cannot expect you to be defenseless." She turned away and started toward the hill. Her steps slowed and she looked at him again. "Your life is threatened enough as it is without me adding to that." Cassandra opened a small pouch on her side and handed him a few flasks. "Here, take these potions."

It was the first time Hirale realized all his belongings were gone. He considered asking about them, but decided it wasn't important given the current problem. He watched as the woman started up the hillside, the clash of lightning from the Breach dousing the sky in green flickers. A sinking feeling spread into the pit of his stomach as the reality of everything began to officially weigh on his shoulders.

"Maker knows what we will face."

* * *

Aydienne burst through the entrance of the Keeper's tent, closely followed by Thelnarel, who was still picking out twigs and leaves from his dreads while complaining loudly. The apprentice's moans fell silent as they found the Keeper was not alone in her tent.

The Keeper was surrounded by a circle of hunters, the twins included, all of which looked up in surprise at the two apprentices.

The hunt master, Aris, was standing closest to the Keeper, his stern, aged face studying the two indignantly. His dark brown hair was pulled back into a long tail that fell along his back. His skin was darkened from daylong hunts, with scars etched in to match his years of experience, though his dark lines of vallaslin were old, the dark ink defied age.

"What is the meaning of this?" Aris demanded crossly.

Thelnarel was at a loss for words, but Aydienne quickly intervened.

"Ir Abelas, Hahren." She said, bowing her head respectfully to him. Aris eased slightly, but his face remained stern. Aydienne glanced at the twins then to her Keeper. "Have you seen the sky, Amelan?"

"I have, Sael." She answered calmly.

"You _do_ realize where it's coming from, right?"

"I do. Aris and I will be sending a few of our hunters to search for Hirale." Keeper Deshanna assured. The twins nudged one another and a different hunter gave her a thumb up in reassurance. It didn't ease Aydienne in the least. "We aren't sure if he's in the middle of it, but they will find-"

"Send me." Aydienne interrupted.

The words escaped her mouth before she could even think, but she didn't regret saying them. Aris crossed his arms over his chest, turning his nose up at her brusquely.

"Absolutely not." Aris replied. The other hunters glanced at one another, unsure if they should allow them to speak privately or continue to stand in place. Not one of them moved. "While you are well versed in elven history and our traditions, though you choose to disrespect them-" His eyes narrowed on her, but she kept her gaze solid on him, unmoved by his stares or side quips. "You are not trained for this type of mission."

"With all due respect, Hahren..." Aydienne said, her eyes never leaving his. She felt her body bubble with livid heat. "I was not asking _you_." Aris looked positively offended, but at a loss for words for the insult. Aydienne turned her gaze to the Keeper; the same fierce look plastered on her face to show she meant business. "I was barely asking to begin with."

"Why you insolent, little-"

"Aris," The Keeper interjected as she stood up. The hunt master fell respectfully silent, but still scrunched his brow bitterly toward the apprentice. "Leave us." The Keeper ordered the hunters, all of which wasted no time exiting the tent.

Aris kept his eyes on Aydienne for a moment but obeyed the Keeper, leaving and not failing to show his distain with heavy stomps and huffs.

Thelnarel stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a smug grin on his face, both impressed by Aydienne but also reveling in her imminent scolding. The Keeper's eyes fell on him.

"You too, Tael."

Thelnarel made a face but nodded to his Keeper, quickly leaving the tent without a word. Aydienne watched as the Keeper sat down again, rubbing her temples with her knuckles. A few brief moments passed where the Keeper said nothing and Aydienne stood, eyes glued to her, waiting patiently for her to say anything.

"I would appreciate it if you did not speak to your elders in such a way, da'len." The Keeper said finally. Aydienne murmured an apology with a shrug. "Don't worry, all will be fine and he'll be home in no time." Aydienne didn't look convinced so the she continued, "Sael, I know you're concerned but going into this with an unclear mind will make it harder to look for him."

"I am _always_ clear when it comes to Hirale." Aydienne said, a cold fury at the edge of her tone just waiting to burst. She tore her eyes away from the Keeper and stared at the ground at her feet, hoping to keep herself calm.

"Sael-"

"Amelan, I can't stand idly by, waiting for any news if Hirale is okay." Aydienne said. She balled her fists until they were pale and sparking electricity. "Either send me with the hunters or I'm going to find him…" Their eyes met and Aydienne refused to back down. "On my own."

Keeper Deshanna examined her for a moment. Her apprentice was livid. While she could be stubborn and passionate, Aydienne rarely lost her temper enough to let it show to others; but when it came to Hirale, her ferocity could rival that of a dragon.

"Listen to reason." The Keeper exhaled.

"No, _you_ listen." Aydienne demanded, shooting her pointer finger directly at her face. "I'm done sitting by the sidelines while you let my friend risk his life. It should have been me in the first place but you're too damn proud to admit it."

"Aydienne-"

"Because of _you_ , Hirale could be dead!" Aydienne hadn't meant it, but her temper got the better of her. She hadn't expected the Keeper's face to fall nor was she prepared for the crack in her voice when she responded.

"And if I had sent you, _you_ might have met the same fate!" The Keeper snapped in response, the only time there was a break in her composure. "Hirale is still better equipped for this quest than you."

"Because he's more expendable than I am?" Aydienne shot back, her eyes flickered nastily. Her rage was like fire, taking a new life of its own beyond her control.

"That's _not_ what I meant, Sael."

"No, Amelan." Aydienne seethed. Some part of her knew she was crossing a line, but her pride wouldn't allow her to take the words back. "You'd rather keep me here in the clan than run the risk I would never come back and you'd be forced to pick Thelnarel as your successor. I'm too valuable to you."

"It's not just that-"

"We're done talking." Aydienne concluded, turning heel toward the exit. She paused at the exit, her hand on the loose, flowing fabric of the tent. The Keeper fell quiet, much to Aydienne's relief, as she was too tired to continue arguing with her. "I'll make the choice for you. I'm going whether you approve or not." Aydienne kept her voice even despite the lump in her throat and the nervous shaking of her fingertips. "Goodbye, Keeper."

And then, Aydienne was gone.

* * *

Hirale and Cassandra were making their way over a frozen lake when a flash of energy struck him right in the face. Hirale shook his head, sputtering irritably, "Fenedhis! What the-?"

"Up on the hill! It attacks from a distance." Cassandra called out.

He scanned the terrain, eyes falling on a clear, green creature on the hill, tossing balls of energy their way. Dodging quickly, Hirale growled and took the end of the haft in his hands, swinging his weapon around and around, letting the heavy weapon fly up towards the wisp and destroying it in one blow.

Cassandra's amazement got the better of her and the compliment slipped out, "Nice shot!" Hirale smirked with satisfaction, but noticed near his feet that black smoke began to form into a shade, evilly hissing at them as it reared back to swipe at them.

 _I shouldn't have thrown my weapon._ Hirale cursed himself, jumping back to avoid the slashes. Cassandra burst past him, slamming her shield into the creature and delivering a killing blow through its skull with her sword.

"Thanks." Hirale said, thoroughly impressed.

"Don't mention it."

The two made their way up the hill; Hirale grabbed his discarded weapon hastily. They barely spoke as they trudged through the snow. They were met a few more times by small groups of shades and wisps, but they quickly slayed them as they determined their fighting rhythm together. The Seeker made an excellent defender while Hirale was better at inflicting immense damage. Cassandra would paralyze or surprise the beasts, and then Hirale would swoop in with powerful swings that destroyed them instantly.

 _We make a pretty good team._ Hirale thought briefly.

Granted, Hirale was not accustomed to specialized battle techniques as hunts rarely called for anything so trained, but he was learning how to defeat the demons more quickly each time.

Lucky enough, Hirale had noticed the repetitive attacks the demons had and used that to their advantage. It seemed within the first thirty heartbeats, the demons would repeat their past attacks and they became all the more predictable and thus easier to take down.

It also didn't hurt that Cassandra was a brilliant battering ram.

"We're getting close to the rift!" Cassandra yelled out from behind him. He pushed through the exhaustion, carrying himself higher and higher up the steps. "You can hear the fighting!"

There was a shot of green light, exploding on one of the rocky towers, sending rocks flying their way. Hirale covered his face and lumbered forward despite the debris. She was right, he could hear the distant clanks of swords and the grunts of soldiers in battle.

"Who's fighting?" He asked, nearly shouting over the orchestra of crashing and battle cries.

"You'll see soon. We _must_ help them." Cassandra said as she approached him, keeping pace with him as they scaled the stairs. The mark began to spark the closer they got until it was violently shaking when they reached the top. They came to what looked to be part of the temple before the tear, parts of it smashed into gaping holes.

Hirale's eyes fell upon nearby soldiers battling demons under a crackling green crystal, the source of the rain of demons. Shades were lashing at soldiers violently, successfully wounding many but being slowed down by various arrows shot at them from a dwarf with a crossbow.

Hirale charged. He jumped swiftly off the ledge, rolling skillfully to maintain momentum and to ward off injury as he burst directly into the fray. Magic flew around him from an elven mage, freezing the demons in place, making them easier to shatter, something Cassandra and Hirale took full advantage of.

Three shades surrounded the mage and began lashing out at him. He sent a wave of telekinetic force at them, paralyzing them for a moment to regain his footing. Hirale slammed his maul down on two of them, burying them in the cracks on the ground as they disappear into dust, before swinging at the other one with a force that sent it flying into a nearby wall. The last shade burst into smoke as an arrow pierced straight through its head.

"Quickly!" The mage shouted, grabbing Hirale's hand, causing him to drop his weapon. "Before more come through!"

He took Hirale's palm and aimed it at the portal. The mark immediately flashed brighter, though it didn't hurt this time. It felt more like it was tugging an invisible rope and pulling the portal closed. Hirale snapped his hand shut into a fist and the gateway slammed shut along with the motion.

"Is everyone alright?" Cassandra asked, checking over the scouts carefully. Many were winded from battle and a few were doubled over from their wounds. "Get them back to Haven." Cassandra ordered and the able-bodied scouts pulled them up from the ground and trucked back toward the town with the injured draped over their shoulders.

Hirale stared at his palm and then to the elven mage, his eyes studying the stranger carefully. He was bald and pale, with cerulean eyes and a constellation of freckles lightly brushed over his face. The man was an elf, clearly, but didn't appear to be from an alienage nor was he Dalish.

He didn't have the makings of a circle mage either, unless they retired the traditional circle mage uniforms for a more woodsman look; but that was unlikely. He wore practical clothes with various unremarkable green and light brown leathers, nothing flashy about him in the least. The way he stood suggested he was timid man, but his eyes held something bolder that made Hirale alert.

"What did you do?" Hirale asked.

" _I_ did nothing. The credit is yours." He spoke unexpectedly clear and proper. Many hunters in Hirale's clan weren't so eloquent in just a few short words.

Hirale heaved a sigh and looked back to mark. It was no longer flashing, but still throbbed with the pulses of the larger Breach.

"Well, at least this thing is good for _something_."

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand." The bizarre man continued. "I theorized the mark might be able to close rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct."

There was a vague tugging at his lips, threatening the onset of a smirk, but he contained himself. Hirale noticed the slight twitch and furrowed his eyebrows. This man was peculiar, but clearly very knowledgeable about the rifts.

But all of this made Hirale more suspicious than grateful.

 _And I'm the one on trial?_

 _I barely know what the mark is and this guy is theorizing about the rifts?  
_

"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself." Cassandra hypothesized.

"Possibly." The elf nodded, he brought his fingertips together and slouched shyly. He tilted his head, suggesting he was being submissive under Cassandra's gaze, but something felt off about him. The elf looked to Hirale again in artificial awe. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

"Oh Hallelujah." Hirale muttered, flinging his arms up in insincere praise.

"Good to know, here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever." A voice came from behind him. Hirale turned to see the dwarf standing there, adjusting his gloves before walking over to them nonchalantly. "Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally an unwelcomed tagalong." He shot a wink at Cassandra who replied with an unreservedly irritated look.

He had a crossbow, unlike any Hirale had ever seen before, strapped to his back; the damned thing was roughly the size of the dwarf's entire torso. He didn't have the same crest as Cassandra or Leliana, and he looked more thuggish than anyone he'd seen back in Haven or among the scouts they'd passed. Then again, the strange apostate woodsman didn't look like he belonged among them either.

"Are you with the Chantry… or?" Hirale trailed off. There was a chuckle from the other elf; Hirale turned his gaze back to him crossly.

"Is that a serious question?"

 _Smug bastard._

" _Technically_ , I'm a prisoner just like you." Varric said, picking at his palm sheepishly, pretending to be embarrassed. "Though, why I was brought _here_ remains a mystery."

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine." Cassandra stated as if the answer were obvious. Hirale didn't think it was possible, but her tone sounded more annoyed than before. "Clearly that is no longer necessary."

"Yet here I am!" Varric chirped with a smile. It appeared the more delighted he looked the more it frustrated Cassandra. "Lucky for you, considering current events."

"That's all well and good." Hirale interrupted. "But I closed the rift. Now what?"

"Now we go to the forward camp. Leliana will be there." Cassandra answered. Hirale assumed she meant the redhead from before.

"What a great idea!" Varric agreed enthusiastically.

"No. Absolutely not." Cassandra barked. She came up on Varric, towering over him threateningly, though towering over a dwarf wasn't a difficult task in the first place. Varric wasn't the least bit phased by her intimidation tactics. "Your help is _appreciated_ , Varric, but-"

"Have you _been_ in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." The two stared down one another, but Cassandra conceded with a disgusted noise. "Besides, Bianca's an excellent shot!" He added with a grin that resulted in another disgusted noise from Cassandra.

"Bianca?" Hirale asked, looking around for whomever they were talking about. All the soldiers had retreated back toward Haven to have the healers tend to their wounded. Only the four of them remained. "I don't see anyone else-"

"He means his crossbow." Cassandra muttered. Hirale raised an eyebrow at the dwarf, unable to contain a smile from cracking along his lips.

"You named your crossbow _Bianca_?"

"Yes, we've been through a lot together." Varric answered, patting the crossbow affectionately. From the corner of his eye, Hirale saw the elven man step toward him.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions." He tilted his head and smiled lightly, scanning Hirale over for a moment. "I'm pleased to see you still live."

"He means 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" Varric translated with finger air quotes. Hirale eyed the other elf without any effort to hide his own mistrust.

"You seem to know a great deal about it all." Hirale said warily.

"Solas is an apostate and well-versed in such matters." Cassandra interjected, but it didn't make Hirale any less guarded.

"Technically, all mages are apostates, Cassandra." Solas corrected and Hirale couldn't help but roll his eyes. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage."

"Well, it's clear you're not with the Circle." Hirale stated passively. Violet eyes scanned the elf over once more and then he crossed his arms over his chest. "So what brought you to help Chantry folk?"

"I came to offer whatever help I can to close the Breach." Solas responded, seemingly unaffected by Hirale's untrusting looks. "If it isn't, we are all doomed, regardless of our origin."

"Lucky for you, you had more of a choice in this than I did." Hirale stated, waving his hand to show the mark. He stepped off to grab his discarded maul and reattach it to his back.

"Cassandra, you should know: The magic involved here is unlike any I have seen." Solas looked Hirale up and down briefly. "Your prisoner is no mage, indeed, but I find it difficult to believe _any_ mage having such power."

"Understood." Cassandra nodded. She came closer to them having surveyed the trail. The dirt path leading up through another archway was nothing but rubble and fire; the only way was to go around. "We must get to the forward camp quickly."

"Well, Bianca's excited!" Varric quipped. Cassandra pointed toward a dirt path lining the bank and started toward it, Solas and Varric were close behind.

"Quickly, down the bank!" Cassandra shouted as she jumped over a broken pile of wood and started alongside the bank of the frozen lake. Hirale stood for a few moments, mulling over everything before he too joined them down the bank.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

Word travelled around the Clan quicker than Aydienne thought possible. Everyone was in a tizzy over the rip in the sky and speculating over Hirale, each member coming up with a more outlandish story than the last. Aydienne refused to hear any of it.

For the most part, none of them had seemed to know Aydienne was leaving the Clan and she packed quickly, in hopes of making herself scarce before anyone found out and to avoid any unwarranted condolences in Hirale's name.

She was unsure how the Keeper planned to tell everyone, but she knew Aris and Thelnarel would spin her into a terrible light over her insubordination. She'd rather not be there when the whole of the Clan turned judgmental eyes onto her.

Aydienne reluctantly left all her books in Hirale's aravel, as she wouldn't need them where she was going, but she packed as many vials of Hirale's testosterone medication and a few sacks of coin she tucked deep into her pack. She was nearly done packing when a voice startled her. She turned to see the twins looking up at her, standing outside the aravel.

"So you're really going?" Lemhel asked; her face was more serious than Aydienne had ever seen.

"Of course." Aydienne answered, placing the last few items she needed into her pack and tightening the clasps before jumping out of the aravel. "I can't stand by while I wait for them to find Hirale."

Lemhel nodded to her sister, who pulled out a folded piece of parchment and handed it to Aydienne. The apprentice looked at it for a moment before opening it, revealing a map of Thedas glittered with annotations.

"It's a map." Lemhon answered before Aydienne could inquire. "We know you probably have one of your own-"

"But this one we've marked with the safest pathways-"

"The best places to camp-"

"And with notes for hunting or gathering food." Lemhel finished. Aydienne looked over the map in awe then looked back to the twins as she folded it carefully in her hands. Lemhon cleared her throat.

"We know it's not much, but we wanted you to be prepared."

"Ma serannas." Aydienne said, her chest clenched with gratitude and a warm smile left glued to her face. "This is more than enough. I appreciate it."

"Just…" Lemhel started, her eyes soaked with melancholy. "Bring Hirale back."

"I will."

The twins looked at her thoughtfully and smiled. This was probably the longest interaction she had with either one of them without Hirale present. Aydienne was unsure how to bid them goodbye, but they wrapped their arms around her into a bear hug, taking her by surprise again.

"Dar'eth, Sael." Lemhon said as they pulled away. Tears were forming around the corners of their eyes, holding them back ferociously.

"Sal sura." Lemhel added lightly.

Aydienne couldn't guarantee she had any intention of coming back after finding Hirale. While the focus was to find him, the growing itch of her wanderlust finally materializing into reality seemed all too much.

How could she ever return here?

And if she could tear herself away from the thrill of adventure, would the Keeper let her back in?

"Sule sal harthir." Aydienne bid her farewell and swiftly made her way to the outskirts of the camp.

She hadn't spoken to any other members of the Clan, and most assumed she was off to read somewhere alone as she always did. When she came to the edge of the camp, just past her favorite tree, she stopped.

Aris stood with arms crossed over his chest and a malicious frown plastered to his lips. He was unarmed which made Aydienne a little less apprehensive, but she knew to tread carefully. She forced herself to appear unaffected by his presence.

" _Hahren_." She said with a nod and continued to walk past him. He grabbed her quickly by the arm. Aydienne looked at him with a sour face, meeting his cold eyes.

"If you leave, Sael, we will _not_ welcome you back." Aris threatened, his voice low and mean. Aydienne breathed a laugh, pulling away her arm from the hunt master. She pretended the red mark from his palm didn't make her skin sore.

"Are you speaking for the Keeper now?" Aydienne remarked, grinning at him. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder if he was right.

"You've been on thin ice with the clan from the moment you came here." Aris' voice was just above a whisper, his eyes a cold steel that was trademarked to him. "The only reason we tolerated your presence is because of Hirale's ill-advised affection toward you and the Keeper _claiming_ you'll be a good leader. But without any respect from your clanmates, how could you hope to lead us?"

"Then you must be happier than Thelnarel is to see me gone." Aydienne said back, her eyes were fierce and her head held high. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Hahren, I must be going."

She brushed past him, refusing to look back to see his reaction. Butterflies flipped in the pit of her stomach and her chest tingled with excitement, nearly washing away any of the dread Aris attempted to put into her.

She was too far to hear Aris curse under his breath, "Fen'Harel ver na."

* * *

Buildings were burning around them; the only sound the terrain offered was the combination of popping fire and howling winds. It was freezing out, but with all the demon slaying and mountainous hiking, Hirale barely noticed except for the nip on his nose.

Hirale had never fought demons before, but he was already getting his fill of it. When they had come to the edge of the lake, they were met with more shades and a few wisps. Luckily, with the added help of Varric and Solas, they were easily dispatched. They took a guess at a few routes, only to find they were either destroyed or too swarmed with demons to continue.

The longer they took to find the way to the forward camp, the more the mark seemed to be flickering belligerently at him. It was a constant reminder of how little time he had left, the pain becoming harder to handle and slowing him down exponentially and it sucked the energy from him.

"How ya' doing, kid?" Varric asked, coming up beside the elf with a comforting palm to his back. Hirale waved his hand to show he'd be fine, but really he was just unable to say anything while the pain seared through him. There was only pain when the Breach itself flashed, not with the smaller rift he had closed earlier.

 _Maybe if I close it, it'll stop the mark from killing me._ Hirale thought optimistically. It was better than letting himself spiral into hopelessness.

"Let's take that route up the bank." Cassandra suggested as Hirale caught his breath. He leaned against a tree, hoping to absorb its strength but finding his body shaking from fatigue. "We must hurry."

"Lead the way." Hirale said caustically gesturing up the hillside. Cassandra and Solas took off up the crude stairway. Varric waited for Hirale to gather himself before they followed after them.

"I realize we didn't get your name." Varric said after a few steps upward.

They caught up to Cassandra and Solas who were surveying the wall of demons up ahead, considering a plan of attack. There were at least four shades patrolling back and forth between the trees and two wisps overseeing them. It was so far the best route toward the camp.

"Why would you care?" Hirale asked in a hushed tone. His voice was far ruder than he intended it to be; after all, Varric hadn't been as abrasive as Cassandra had. He could imagine Aydienne wagging a finger at him for his impoliteness and he sighed, correcting his words quickly. "I mean, why do you want to know?"

Varric appeared to have taken no offense.

"I'd like to know what to call you other than 'prisoner,' like the Seeker here." Cassandra made a disgusted noise at Varric but didn't say anything else. Hirale considered lying to the dwarf, but there was no reason to do so, considering he was the only one being friendly toward Hirale; and he was in no position to turn away a friend.

"It's… Hirale." The elf answered.

"Please to meet you, Hirale." Varric obliged in return.

It was the first polite thing anyone had said to him that for a moment he felt unsure how to respond, but he didn't have a chance to as Cassandra charged for the demons. Varric brandished Bianca and began firing quick shots at the wisps that had placed themselves higher up.

Solas cast a barrier around them, making them impervious to any blows for a short period of time, which made tolerating the jolts of energy belting toward them easier as they picked off the wisps.

Though he was still exhausted, Hirale lunged forward, bringing his maul up the side of one of the shades and sending it into the rocky wall. There was an orb of energy launched at him from a wisp, which Hirale swiftly dodged and charged forward into the demon, maul first.

It dissolved upon impact and Hirale turned to see the other demons had been destroyed. Cassandra came up next to him, perusing the landscape for any other demons hiding.

"I hope Leliana made it through all this okay." She said, catching her breath. She sheathed her sword again and pulled out a health potion, drinking it quickly before tossing the glass flask aside into the snow.

"She's resourceful, Seeker." Varric assured. "I'm sure she's there already sipping hot cocoa waiting for us to arrive."

"We'll see at the forward camp." Solas stated. He looked over to Cassandra and tipped his head up toward the hill. "Onward?"

Cassandra nodded to the apostate and they began upward. The quiet started to sink in again around them as they marched upward, making Hirale exceedingly desperate to break it again. Hirale eyed Cassandra curiously then turned his gaze back to Varric.

"So… why do you call her _Seeker_?"

"Because that's what Cassandra _is_." Varric answered as if it were obvious. "A Seeker of truth, a sort of Templar. Didn't she tell you?"

The blank look on Hirale's face was a sufficient enough answer.

Varric laughed emphatically, astounded he had expected more from Cassandra. "I'll bet they didn't even introduce themselves properly or even mention who all these soldiers are."

"He doesn't _need_ to know, Varric." Cassandra barked sternly. "The prisoner is accused of a terrible crime."

"His name is _Hirale_." Varric corrected, earning a grateful smile from the elf. "And you still need his help, Seeker. Unless you're taking him into the valley for a quick stroll and fresh air."

"If that's _all_ we're doing, I would have brought a picnic basket." Hirale remarked, earning another laugh from Varric and an eye roll from Cassandra. They strode together in quiet for a few minutes before Hirale's curiosity got the better of him. "So who are they, then?"

"Cassandra and Leliana were the right and left hands of the Divine respectively." Varric answered. "They were the Divine's unofficial agents, doing things like… gathering these soldiers."

"Why?"

"The Templar order was once the Chantry's army." Solas chimed in. "After the ordeal in Kirkwall, they broke away from the Chantry to hunt mages. A replacement was needed."

"Because the Chantry needs to have an army at its disposal at all times." Hirale stated scathingly.

"It is more than that." Cassandra argued, but Hirale simply rolled his eyes and gave a brutish snort.

"I'm sure." He said. "Clearly the Divine had something in mind for them. People don't just form armies for fun."

"That is not your concern." Cassandra defended, her composure wavering a bit under the critiques. She stopped dead in her tracks, turning to Hirale with narrowed eyes. "The Divine wanted the Conclave to fix the mage and templar issue. Leaders and supporters of either side were invited to join in so everyone could have a voice." She added accusingly, "But that doesn't explain why _you_ were at the Conclave."

"She's got you there." Varric admitted with a shrug. "You aren't a mage and presumably not a templar."

"Absolutely not." Cassandra snapped insulted.

"Creators, no." Hirale shook his head, as if he ever wanted to be associated with such Chantry filth.

"You are Dalish are you not? And clearly a long way from your clan." Hirale turned to look at Solas, whose eyes were studying him questionably. "Did they send you here?"

"And what do _you_ know of the Dalish?" Hirale asked, violet eyes narrowing threateningly, his own mistrust apparent in his face.

"I have wandered many roads in my time and crossed paths with them on more than one occasion." Solas answered as-a-matter-of-factly, making Hirale dislike his know-it-all attitude even more.

' _Crossed paths' doesn't sound good._ Hirale mused for a moment.

If Hirale had met another _Dalish_ , his manners would be immaculate, as they were his people regardless of clan, but this was certainly not the case. This man was evidently not one of the people and seemed to know an alarmingly great deal about the Breach and its rifts to not be hiding _something_.

Hirale could feel it in his gut.

"Then you know us well enough to be careful." Hirale stated simply, his eyes glued to Solas as if trying to will the man to catch fire under his gaze. Solas wasn't the least bit intimidated.

"Well enough to be _suspicious_."

"Isn't everyone here today?" Hirale muttered as his ears flattened in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Can't you elves just play nice for once?" Varric chimed in to lighten the mood, but then Cassandra joined in.

"Solas has a point." Cassandra said. "What _were_ you doing at the Conclave?"

"My Keeper sent me." Hirale answered simply. Lying would do no good and it would just be more suspicious for him later on.

"Your Keeper?" Cassandra's lip curled in a snarl. "How can we trust you?"

"You can't." Hirale answered simply, frustration turning into weariness. Between the mark zapping his physical energy and these two draining his mental energy, Hirale was completely exhausted. "No matter what I say, truth or otherwise, you already believe I'm guilty even though you _need_ me to help you and I have yet to do anything _but_ help you.

"If you _must_ know I was sent by my Keeper to spy on the Conclave. _Your_ templars and mages have started fighting further into our territory and it's not safe for our clans." He continued fervently. "We were hoping the talks would inspire order again because what you Shems choose to do effects our people. Though, I'm sure you didn't even _consider_ what effect you people have on the lives of others."

Cassandra looked speechless for a moment, taken aback by Hirale's speech and attitude. Solas, playing devil's advocate, motioned to the mark on his hand.

"Then how did you get that mark on your hand?"

"Like I said, I don't remember that part." Hirale stated with a sigh, tired of repeating his story over and over.

"How convenient." Cassandra snorted obscenely. Hirale's temper got the better of him. He whirled around to look directly at her, taking a few steps toward her though she didn't shy away.

"And how _convenient_ is it that both the right and left hands of the Divine weren't at the Conclave because of a _delay_?" Hirale shot back. Cassandra met his glare, the two staring at one another fiercely.

Varric coughed to break the tension. "To be fair, _I_ was that delay." He said, glancing at the Seeker he added, "But he does have a point."

"Whose side are you on, Varric?" Cassandra barked.

"There are _no_ sides, Seeker. I'm merely agreeing with both parties." Varric said with palms exposed in a 'take-it-easy' gesture. "We could argue all day about it, but it doesn't get us closer to the forward camp."

That was something they could all agree upon.

They marched up the hillside along the snowy steps that outlined the path. Cassandra led the way, seemingly unexhausted by the mountains of stairways while they all followed close behind. Shouting of soldiers grew louder as they ascended the hill, and the mark began to flicker again as a warning of a nearby rift approaching.

"They keep coming!" A soldier yelled. "Help us!"

"Another rift!" Cassandra bellowed as they reached the gates to the forward camp positioned along the bridge. She immediately took charge and began fighting off the shades.

Hirale charged behind her, taking swooping swings at the shades around her. Varric aimed Bianca to the sky and sent a shower of arrows down upon the wisps that were camped behind the rift. They burst into smoke and were sucked back into the Fade.

"We must seal it! Quickly!" Solas called to Hirale. He and Varric placed themselves in front of Hirale, fighting off a few shades at close range and blocking Hirale so he could take his chance. "We'll cover you!"

Hirale nodded and raised his hand to the ticking crystal; it immediately latched on with a string of energy and began to whirr echoingly. His fingertips tingled as he pulled them shut, closing the rift as well and destroying any remaining demons with it. The soldiers erupted into cheers and he felt Cassandra pat him on the shoulder.

"The rift is gone." Cassandra announced breathlessly. She turned her gaze to the soldiers near the doorway. "Open the gate."

The soldiers nodded and signaled to the men stationed above the archway. The gate creaked open, revealing a line of tables and weapon stands along the bridge. There were supply caches for refilling any potions that they all quickly replenished their stock from.

"We're clear for the moment." Solas declared as he scanned the area briefly. He looked at Hirale and nodded in approval. "Well done."

"Thanks." Hirale replied carefully.

"Whatever that thing on your hand is, it's useful." Varric added, treading next to him.

 _It's like a key to the rifts._ Hirale thought as they strolled through the gates. Cassandra was much further ahead of them, eager to find Leliana safe. There were plenty of soldiers and scouts rushing around busily, none of which paid them any attention. It was a nice change from the biting glares back at Haven.

The redhead was standing at a table, overlooking a large map. There was a man next to her dressed in what Hirale assumed to be some sort of Chantry priest robe, one that didn't look nearly as warm as any of the armor the soldiers and scouts wore. His pale skin was pink with cold, a line of prickly unshaven hairs dancing along his cheeks. He did not look the least bit pleased to see them.

"Ah, here they come." The man sneered at them.

"You made it!" Leliana said, relieved as she stepped forward. She patted Cassandra on the shoulder and the Seeker nodded in return, both clearly thankful to see each other there in one piece. Leliana turned back to the man, extending her hand to introduce Hirale. "Chancellor Roderick, this is-"

"I _know_ who he is." Chancellor Roderick interrupted. The man glared at Hirale in disgust then immediately barked to the women, "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this prisoner to Val Royeaux to face execution for his crimes."

"Excuse me? You dare order _me_?" Cassandra fumed. She took a few steps forward, startling the Chancellor as he took a few steps back to match hers. Leliana stood between them, her hand rested on the Seeker's shoulder to stop her, but the Seeker wasn't done shouting. "You are a glorified _clerk_! A _bureaucrat_!"

"And you are a _thug_." The Chancellor retorted from the safety the table and Leliana provided. "A thug that supposedly serves the Chantry."

 _He's just as bad as Thelnarel._

"That's a lot of talk coming from someone who looks like he could barely lift a sword. Let alone handle himself against Cassandra." Hirale barked, earning an offended look from the Chancellor and one of incredible shock from Cassandra. A grateful glint sparked through her eyes, but she refrained from smiling.

"The insolence!"

"We serve the _Most Holy_ , Chancellor, as you well know." Leliana intervened, crossing her arms over her chest.

"If you haven't noticed, Sister Nightingale, Justinia is _dead_!" The Chancellor hollered as he flung his arms up in the air. "We must elect her replacement and obey _her_ orders on the matter."

 _Leave it to the Chantry to follow procedure when it's the damned end of the world._

"Isn't the Breach the more pressing issue?" Hirale asked. All eyes locked onto him and he felt the immediate uncomfortable warmth of the spotlight. "I mean, it is tearing a hole into our world and hurling demons at us. But no big deal, right?"

"You're the one who started all this!" The human shot an accusing finger at him. Hirale narrowed his eyes on the man, a crinkle in his nose. "What makes you think you are allowed to talk, _knife-ear_?"

"What did you say, _shem_?" Hirale rounded on the Chancellor, his hand on his weapon and his eyes daring the human to say it again. The Chancellor dove behind Leliana as a shield, though she did little to offer recluse for the annoying man.

"See? This savage cannot be trusted!" The Chancellor whined in a panic.

"This _savage_ could rip you in-"

"Enough." Cassandra said, putting her hand on Hirale's shoulder. "He isn't worth it." She said in a low tone to him, to which he let his hand slip from his weapon. Cassandra turned her gaze back to Chancellor Roderick, who peered out from behind Leliana. "The prisoner has a point. The Breach is our number one objective right now. We can stop it before it's too late."

"How?" The man barked skeptically. "You won't survive long enough to reach the Temple even with all your soldiers."

"We must get to the Temple and it's the quickest route."

"But not the safest." Leliana stated. "Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains."

"We lost contact with an entire squad that took that path. It's too risky." Cassandra said, gazing up at the mountain.

The wind howled through the caves along its face like a breath through a flute. It had the makings of an old miners path up along its side, but it was barren and covered in snow like much of the mountain. Dark grey fog muddled the details from the distance, though Hirale guessed it was more smoke from the numerous fires rather than fog.

"Listen to me." The Chancellor's voice softened. "Abandon this now before more lives are lost!"

The Breach shrieked above them, sending an earthquake through the mountain and shaking the forward camp. The Chancellor stumbled, nearly falling to his feet but Leliana caught him and helped him up. Hirale's arm began to shake violently; at this point the pain was so strong he barely noticed its increase. He held his arm steady, though it felt like the Breach was pulling it towards it like a magnet.

The Chancellor glared at Hirale, as the elf let go of his hand, the flickering disappearing as quickly as it began. Cassandra turned to him and looked him square in the eye.

"How do you think we should proceed?" She asked him, earning a surprised scoff from the Chancellor behind her.

"You're asking _him_?" The man exclaimed.

"My thoughts exactly." Hirale said; looking at Cassandra as if she'd lost her damned mind.

"You have the mark. You'll be the only one who can close the rifts." Solas stated bluntly. The Chancellor seemed to have overlooked the woodsman and jumped slightly at his interjection.

"You're the one we must keep alive." Cassandra continued, undeterred by the Chancellor's outburst. "Since we cannot agree on our own…"

Hirale considered the weight of this decision. If they took the mountain path, it would be less direct and scouts may be lost through the pass, as it was clearly treacherous on its own. However, charging with the soldiers could lead to more causalities but it would be the quickest route between the two.

He looked down at the mark, the bulk of his mortality heavy on his shoulders and the urgency to get everything done ringing in the back of his head. While the pain was becoming a normalcy, he knew it was draining his energy and time wasn't on their side.

And needless to say, Hirale had never been one for indirect methods.

"I say we charge." Hirale answered, as he turned his gaze to the Chancellor, whose face had soured into an even deeper frown. "I won't survive long enough for your trial, so whatever I can do to stop this needs to happen _now_."

"Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone." Cassandra ordered and Leliana nodded, swiftly gathering her scouts. Cassandra brushed past the Chancellor, who was bent over the table, studying the maps sullenly.

"On your head are the consequences, Seeker." The Chancellor warned, but Cassandra continued to walk forward with her head tall and her back turned to him. Hirale glared toward the Chancellor and caught up to the Seeker; Solas and Varric were close behind.

"He's just a sparkling ray of sunshine, isn't he?" Hirale quipped with a laugh. It was the first time he'd seen Cassandra crack a smile.

They trudged up the hillside, bursts of flaming rock were sent into the ground around them, crashing into the terrain clumsily. Soldiers ran quickly past them, heading forward and ready to fight whatever demons might come.

Hirale breathed heavily out of his mouth, turning to look back the way they came. His eyes didn't fall upon the forward camp nor Haven, but gazed far past to where his clan was. Where _home_ was. He felt the sharp ache in his nose as tears began to well up under violet eyes.

He held them back.

 _Goodbye, Aydienne._

* * *

A/N: Thank you again for reading! Review or follow to let me know how you feel about it.

As before, I'd like to give credit to and endless thanks for many of the Elvhen phrases to FenxShiral for their incredible work on deconstructing the Elvhen language. To find Project Elvhen /works/3553883/chapters/7825850 or visit their tumblr under the FenxShiral tag.

Ma serannas, Hahren!

 **Translations:**

Dar'eth – "Go safely" (informal)

Sal sura – "Be here again/come again" (informal)

Sule sal harthir – "Until we hear of each other again." (informal)

Fen'Harel ver na – "Dread Wolf take you." (Insult)


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: Hello hello readers! Thank you for all the follows/favorites/reviews on the last chapter. Sorry to have kept you waiting. Unfortunately, I wrote most of this chapter a week ago and then my computer crashed and deleted most of it because I'm terrible at saving as I go. But luckily it's finished now!

I hope you're all as excited for the new DLC as I am! I've already started writing bits and pieces for that part. As a die-hard Solavellan fan, I lost my marbles at the end of the trailer and I'm pretty much unraveling now that I've played it. So many feels. But let's remained focused!

 **The Path that Leads Astray**

 **Chapter Two**

* * *

It wasn't long before they found themselves against another rift.

This time, there were soldiers everywhere fighting off swarms of shades while trying to dodge incoming blasts from wisps. Many fought valiantly as the wounded were being helped back toward the camps, but without the rift closed, the waves of demons seemed never ending.

Their forces were dwindling.

Among them was a heavily armored man sporting a steel helm with a growling Mabari face engraved into the metal and thick, red pauldrons atop his shoulders like a lion's mane. Steel shoulder covers leaked from beneath the feathers, matching his shimmering gauntlets.

He held a large shield, branded with a templar insignia though the armor wasn't templar in the least, and he swung a long, knight sword skillfully through the heads of the shades rounding on him. His armor was very different from the soldiers' and Hirale assumed he must be the leader or some sort of commander.

"How many rifts are there?" Varric shouted from behind them as Cassandra and Hirale ran forward and into the fight. Clatters and clangs of metal against demon skin and the shouts of soldiers in tandem with demonic shrieks drowned out most of Varric's words.

"We must seal it!"

Hirale vaguely heard Solas yell as he knocked his maul into the side of a shade, sending it flying away from a soldier that had collapsed. Another quickly helped his fallen comrade to their feet, draping their arm over him as they nodded their thanks and scampered away.

The elf turned to see the rift spout out a few tall, treelike demons that screeched triumphantly as they emerged. They resembled the sylvan trees Hirale had seen in many Ferelden forests, though they were twisted into the stuff of nightmares. They had glaring red eyes and razors for fangs. Long, sharpened talons slashed out toward any nearby soldiers, sending them to the ground in bloodied heaps.

Their screams were piercing, causing Hirale's vision to spot and his head to spin. He shook it off and Cassandra blew past him. Solas sent a spell shooting into one of the trees, freezing its wooden limbs as cold overtook it. Cassandra slammed her shield into its legs, shattering it with one blow. As the demon thawed, it shrieked out in pain, lashing out at her violently as it floundered on the ground.

The other sylvan dug its claws into the earth; opening a green portal underneath it while simultaneously a matching one appeared under the Mabari warrior's feet. The masked soldier hadn't noticed, as he was distracted with fighting off a weakened shade. The sylvan jumped in, and Hirale had no time to bark orders at him before he rushed the soldier with all his speed, crashing his body into him and flinging him off the vortex just as the sylvan erupted from it.

The Mabari warrior came up to his knee, steadying himself as Hirale pushed off and brought his maul down onto the tree, digging it into the ground. Then he swung a killing blow into the shade before it could strike either of them down.

Hirale held his hand out to the warrior, helping him back up to his feet. Up close, he was much taller than Hirale expected, though typically humans always made Hirale feel more on the short side. The warrior nodded to him before charging away, shield first, into the stumbling sylvan as it tried to stand up again.

"Hirale! The rift!" Cassandra called to him, pointing at the rift a few meters away. There were swarms of demons all over the path to the rift in chaotic battle.

"I'll cover you, kid!" Varric said, running in front of him and firing quick shots from Bianca as they darted through the skirmish. Once they were close enough, Varric swiveled so his back was facing Hirale's, firing more shots at any demons following them.

Hirale brought his hand up to the rift and it instantly began to suck the energy closed around the crystal. It whirred deeply as Hirale pulled his fingers together into a fist, blasting it shut and extinguishing any demons left standing. Hirale glanced from his mark to the rift, still surprised by his ability to close the rift at all.

"Sealed, as before." Solas said, admiring Hirale's handy work. "You're becoming quite proficient at this."

"Yeah, good job, kid." Varric said with a pat on Hirale's back. "Let's just hope it works on the big one."

"Fingers crossed." Hirale answered breathlessly. He glanced around for Cassandra. She was walking up to the Mabari warrior, who sheathed his sword and placed his shield on his back.

"Commander Cullen!" Cassandra said, bringing her hands up to his shoulders, relieved that he was still real and solid. The warrior pulled off his helmet and Hirale inhaled sharply.

The Commander was like something out of a fairytale. His hair was blonde with a light curl to it and he had hazel eyes that could leave any woman weak in the knees. He had a line of light scruff defying the morning shave as they prickled across his jawline and an aged scar along his upper lip. He had Prince Charming written all over his obnoxiously attractive features.

 _He's so beautiful it hurts._ Hirale thought for a moment, gawking at the man before realizing how ridiculous he looked and quickly shut his mouth; blushing furiously as he grabbed his maul, hoping no one had noticed.

 _For a Shem, that is._

"Lady Cassandra." His voice was definitely Ferelden, one of the few accents Hirale recognized amongst all the new faces today. "You sealed the rift. Well done."

Hirale's face soured. He looked down at his hand bitterly, unsurprised to be overlooked. _She didn't really close the rift herself, did she?_

"Don't congratulate _me_ , Commander." Cassandra replied, whirling around toward Hirale. The elf's ears perked in astonishment as he turned to see Cassandra motioning the warrior to him. Hirale stared like a deer in headlights, his face turning pink again. "This is Hirale's doing."

"Is it?" The Commander looked over to the elf. His gaze was stern like old steel, but not nearly as frightening as Cassandra's. "I hope they're right about you. We lost a lot of good people getting you here."

"I… well, um." Hirale stuttered, still taken aback from the acknowledgement. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I can't promise anything… but I will try my best."

"That's all we can ask for." The Commander nodded to him. He turned back to Cassandra, extending a finger toward a pathway along the spikes protruding out of the once holy temple. "The way to the Temple should be clear."

"Buy us some time, Commander." Cassandra replied, her eyes trailing off along the path before returning back to him, firm and determined. "Leliana should be arriving shortly and we need as many able bodies in there with us."

"Maker watch over you, for all our sakes." The Commander said. He turned back toward his soldiers, helping a fallen comrade to his feet and helping him back toward the camps. Hirale watched after them, wishing he could join them.

 _Or go home._ Hirale sighed.

"We mustn't dally." Solas said, grabbing Hirale's attention from his homesickness. Cassandra took lead toward the temple, closely followed by the rest of them in foreboding silence.

Hirale had never seen the Temple of Sacred Ashes up close before, but it was clear it was only shambles of its former glory. The stone bricks had crumbled into piles alongside parts of the foundation that still stood. Jagged rocks pierced upward and through it like spines on a wyvern. There were veins of green energy twisting up the walls in pulsating vines and the fire from the debris exuded the same green hue.

The Temple was eerily quiet, except for the crackle of wreckage and the soft murmurs of wind. Bodies of burnt people, glowing with red mist, stood as statues, silently screaming their agony in twisted faces and seared flesh. The mixed of ash and burning skin was a putrid combination, making Hirale want to gag.

They stepped carefully through the mess and toward the main hall. The mark flickered a bit, but didn't spark any shots of pain through his arm. Hirale stopped as his eyes fell upon the large rift in the center of the hall.

Hirale exhaled tersely. "Oh shit."

"The Breach is a long way up." Varric said from behind the elf, his eyes wide and mouth gaping as he spun around to get an entire view of the Temple and Breach.

"Tell me about it."

Hirale stared in awe. His steps slowed as he came up to the ledge of a balcony. There was no direct way to the Breach and it was much further up than Hirale had imagined.

"Am I supposed to fly up there or something?"

It was bigger than any of the other rifts he'd seen, but by the looks of it and the little reaction of the mark, it appeared to be dormant. It snapped slowly, adjusting its branches without spilling out demons. Curtains of Fade light twisted around the crystal and then billowed up into the sky, up toward the Breach.

Hirale hadn't even considered how high up the Breach actually _was_. Running through the waves of demons and the sky falling, he had little time to consider the logistics of it.

 _How am I supposed to get up there?_

They all stood quietly together, eyeing the main hall and the Breach, trying to formulate a plan when footsteps came shifting behind them. Hirale's ears twitched but he didn't turn to look.

"You're here! Thank the Maker." Leliana exclaimed in relief.

Cassandra turned to her, immediately barking orders to her and the scouts for formation. She waved her hand to the few soldiers. She came up to Hirale's side and stood square next to him.

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess." Hirale answered, tearing his eyes away from the Breach finally. His nerves wriggled all over his body, making him shake with anticipation and concern. "I hope you have a plan to get me all the way up there."

"No, this rift is the first. It is the key." Solas stated. Both Cassandra and Hirale turned to look at him. "Seal it and perhaps we seal the Breach."

"Then let's find a way down." Cassandra concluded. Her eyes scanned the rubble for any sign of a clear pathway, though most of it seemed muddled together in wreckage. "And be careful."

"This way." Hirale pointed behind her to a long way through the spiked rocks. It was less direct than any other way, but it looked a bit more stable than attempting to go straight down. "It looks like a landslide gave enough of a push to make this path. It may be a bit slippery, though."

Cassandra nodded to him, motioning to the soldiers who followed them obediently. All around the temple, Leliana's scouts placed themselves in spots that gave them the best vantage point.

The veins in the stone seemed to glimmer like scales along the protruding rocks, reflecting Fade light along the pathway. They marched together in silence, none of them willing to speculate what awaited them at the bottom of the temple.

Then a voice boomed throughout the rubble.

" _ **Now is the hour of our victory."**_

Hirale glanced around, his steps slowing beneath him as he tried to find where the voice was coming from. Something about the voice sounded familiar to Hirale, but he couldn't place it. It itched at the back of his mind, insisting he knew it, but fading away like a dream.

His eyes fell on the rift in the center, and it spoke again. _**"Bring forth the sacrifice."**_

"What are we hearing?" Cassandra asked faintly, her eyes darting around every which way, searching for the source of the voice. She had stopped next to Hirale while the soldiers trailed forward.

"At a guess? The person who created the Breach." Solas suggested.

"But where is it coming from?"

"The rift?" Hirale breathed, watching the crystal twitch and stretch into different ways. He waited a few more minutes but the rift didn't speak again. He nodded to Cassandra. "C'mon, let's get down there."

As they made the corner further down the path, the rocks appeared to be covered in a crystal-like red coating. It shimmered in the light and pulsated an angry, red glow. Hirale thought for a moment he heard whispers from them, but that couldn't be possible.

"You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker." Varric said in a low tone, clearly unnerved by the effervescent red rocks.

"I see it, Varric." Cassandra replied, though she didn't appear to be nearly as upset by it as the dwarf was. Varric kept himself as far from it as possible.

"But what's it doing _here_?"

"Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple… and corrupted it." Solas theorized.

"I thought lyrium only came in blue." Hirale remarked with a weak laugh. Varric did not seem in the mood for jokes, however.

"Well, the red stuff's evil." The dwarf stated, an uncharacteristic streak of distain in his tone and features. "Whatever you do, don't touch it."

" _ **Keep the sacrifice still."**_ The voice thundered again.

The steps were barely visible in all the dust and dirt, but they made it down further without any slips or falls. They came to the edge of wall, short enough to jump down to the main floor without injury.

Hirale was the first to jump down from the ledge, and the others were close behind. As he stood up, he walked toward the rift carefully. The mark still hadn't reacted much to being near it.

" _Someone help me!"_ A new voice echoed from the rift. It was a woman's voice, but Hirale couldn't remember where he recognized it.

" _What's going on here?"_

 _That_ , however, was most definitely _Hirale's voice_.

Dread took over Hirale as he turned to look at Cassandra, hoping she wouldn't immediately chain him up and ship him off to Val Royeaux. Cassandra looked stunned, but not angry so that was a relief.

"That was _your_ voice." She said, gazing at him in shock. "Most Holy called out to you but-"

Then white light erupted around them, engulfing them in a foggy memory. The air felt thin around them and Hirale's head was left spinning. An older woman in Chantry robes hovered in front of it, her arms bound by swirls of red magic.

"Divine Justinia…" Cassandra whispered.

In front of her was a towering figure with two piercing demonic eyes and long jagged nails for hands. It was consumed in twisted wafts of smoke that drowned out the edges of its silhouette. In one claw it held something round, but it too was indistinguishable in faded smoke.

" _What's going on here?"_ The words danced around him like leaves in the wind. He clasped his hands over his mouth. He hadn't spoken the words himself, yet he _had_?

" _Run while you can!"_ The Divine shouted to him. _"Warn them!"_

" _ **We have an intruder."**_ The mysterious figure boomed as it turned to Hirale, red eyes peering at him angrily. One of its claws twisted out toward him, extending a long, thin finger his way. _**"Slay the elf."**_

With those words, an eruption of shadows burst from behind the figure and rushed toward Hirale with clamoring talons. Hirale pulled his arms up in front of him, bracing for an impact, but the shadows blew through him in a howling wind before all the lights evaporated around him.

Hirale looked up, the vision was gone.

"You _were_ there!" Cassandra's voice made Hirale jump. He turned to see the Seeker quickly coming up to him, her expression desperate for answers. "Who attacked? And the Divine? Is she…?" Cassandra asked frantically, Hirale couldn't get in a word. "Is this vision true? What are we seeing?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Hirale answered. He scrounged the corners of his mind for that memory, but he couldn't recall anything. "It does seem familiar, but I can't remember it."

"Echoes of what happened here." Solas stated. Hirale and Cassandra turned to him. The mage had stepped closer to the rift and was eyeing it thoughtfully. "The Fade bleeds into this place. It probably reacted to you being so close."

"Then why wasn't it clearer?" Varric asked, tossing his hands in the air.

"Perhaps because he doesn't remember it himself?" Solas answered quickly. "But more likely that as a memory of the Fade, it too is unclear." Hirale was sure there was a bigger explanation of the inner workings of the Fade, but was glad Solas held back the lecture. Now was not the time. "But we must focus on the task at hand. This rift is closed, but not sealed… albeit temporarily."

"What do you suggest we do?" Cassandra asked the apostate, all the shock washed away from her face but her tone gave her away with the slight crack in its delivery.

"I believe that with the mark, the rift can be reopened and then sealed." Solas answered, motioning to Hirale's hand. Varric walked up next to him, shooting a 'you've-got-to-be-shitting-me' look to the mage.

"Hold on, Chuckles. You want him to _open_ the rift?"

"It's the only way to seal it properly and safely." Solas replied simply.

Hirale looked at the rift as it shifted, Fade energy leaking out and up into the Breach. It was clear the rift was feeding the Breach more energy to expand, while not actually being fully open itself. Hirale considered a moment how bad things could get by opening the rift, but he knew Solas had a point, as much as he hated to admit it.

"Let's do it, then." Hirale responded finally.

"You've all gone crazy." Varric resided, but he didn't press the issue any further.

"Be wary." Solas warned. "Opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side." Hirale rolled his eyes and walked toward the rift.

"Of _course_ it will."

"That means demons!" Cassandra shouted for the soldiers and scouts to hear. She turned to them, urging them to prepare for a fight. Soldiers positioned themselves in formation behind Hirale, prepared to protect him at any costs. Leliana's scouts aimed their arrows directly at the Breach, sharp eyes ready to shoot down any demons that dared enter their world.

Cassandra turned back to Hirale, giving him a nod as she unsheathed her sword and swung her shield out in front of her, standing ready beside him. Large violet eyes looked back to the rift as he stepped closer. He felt butterflies flutter through his stomach and sweat inch down his back.

Hirale extended the mark out toward the rift, unsure how to actually open a rift, as all his experiences were with closing them. Once his hand was extended out completely, the rift immediately took hold of the mark. Hirale stretched his fingers out, hoping the rift would mimic the gesture. The rift crackled angrily at him and pain began to seep through his palm as it began to open.

Hirale winced as a jolt of energy whipped past them like lightning, crashing behind them as a large demon appeared. It was larger than any of the previous demons he had seen and looked much more formidable.

It towered well over the soldiers tenfold and its armored skin was grey and spiked. Spines embroidered its arms and chest. Four long, bent horns were atop its head in a warped crown, just above a multitude of slit-like eyes that resembled pools of darkness. Its roar was more a screech, showing off its plethora of razor fangs inside its heavy jowls. It slammed down to the ground, causing the ground to shake and a few rocks to crumble off the rubble of the temple walls.

"Now!" Cassandra bellowed, raising her sword to the scouts above. "Varric, provide cover for Hirale. Solas, cast barriers on our soldiers to protect them!"

A wave of arrows flew toward the demon, though they barely seemed to have any effect. Many bounced off the hard armored skin while those that stuck, didn't seem to inflict much pain on it. The demon thundered again, swinging its arm around and smashing incoming arrows easily with one swoop.

The demon laughed, a deep, menacing chortle as it formed lightning between its palms. It's entire body lit up with electric energy as it charged up for an attack. Purple energy radiated off of its back in a terrifying display of raw power. Many soldiers scrambled to move out of its way, but a few were left paralyzed with fear.

As it rounded on the few terrified soldiers, unable to move, Hirale raised his hand up to the rift again, hoping that it would disrupt the demons connect to this world as it had with previous rifts.

Hirale was right.

The demon fell to its knee, panting exhaustedly as the glow of energy began to fade around it. Cassandra shouted more orders, but Hirale could barely hear her over the ringing in his ears. The two of them charged toward the demon, Cassandra slammed her shield into its side and Hirale slashed at its leg. Hirale could see a few spiked arrows wedge themselves into the demons wounds.

The rift crackled again as it crystalized again and the demon began to stand upright. It clenched its fist, a whip of electricity forming around it, and it quickly snapped it around, sending many soldiers flying as well as Cassandra and Hirale.

Cassandra was much sturdier on her feet, landing skillfully before charging forward again, swinging her sword around to get at its legs again. Hirale barely recovered his footing before a few more demons appeared around them, shades and wisps like earlier.

"More coming through the rift!"

Solas quickly froze many of the shades rounding on Varric and the dwarf swiftly shattered them with a few explosive arrows. Leliana was darting around among them, her arrows quick and cruel as they sliced through the wisps from afar. Hirale found himself caught between a few shades, but easily dispatched them as he twisted himself around in a tornado of momentum.

"You have to close the rift!" He heard Solas shout to him once the demons were defeated. "Or more will continue to fall through!"

Hirale turned toward the rift, but the large, pride demon stood wide with its legs apart, placing itself between the rift and Hirale. It chuckled deeply again as lightning played between its claws.

Hirale smirked and took off toward the demon. It began to charge another orb of energy to throw at him, but just before the elf got too close, he dropped himself down to the ground, keeping his leg straight as he slid between its legs and underneath it. He quickly pulled himself back up once he was past the demon and brought his hand back up to the rift for one last close.

The rift immediately sought out the mark, whirring as it weakened. The demons began to fade back into the portal and the large demon had fallen to its knees, weakened by the disruption.

"Now! Close the rift!" He could hear Cassandra shout to him.

Hirale held his arm steady as the mark on his hand shook his entire body. The pain was blistering and Hirale's entire arm felt like it was on fire. He winced as he began to bring his stiff fingers together, attempting to close the disobliging rift. The billows of Fade energy began to unravel and twist back into the rift. Hirale's vision began to twinkle into darkness; getting dimmer and dimmer the longer he stood with his hand on the rift.

 _Just a little bit more…_

Finally, the whirring began to vibrate so low it became quiet and the energy around the rift burst up and outward. The small burst sent Hirale flying back, tumbling to the ground in a heap. The large demon disappeared back into the Fade, nothing left in its wake other than a small bit of electric essence in a squishy lump of Fade residue.

All of Hirale's energy had left him; his body was weak and immoveable as he drifted off into exhaustion. He could faintly hear Cassandra calling his name as he fell back into dark oblivion.

* * *

 _The clan was buzzing with gossip. It wasn't every day an apprentice was cast out of their own clan to live with another, so the elves were eagerly spinning outlandish theories as to why she was being brought to their clan._

 _"I hear she worships the Dread Wolf!"_

 _"I hear that she summoned a demon that destroyed most of her clan!"_

 _There were already three mages in Clan Lavellan: The Keeper, her apprentice, Thelnarel, and the clan's healer. Typically, most Dalish clans stopped at around two, but Keeper Deshanna was not intimidated by shemlen templars or chantry fear of mages._

 _But it was a surprise when Keeper Deshanna asked Hirale to accompany her to meet with the new member of their clan and not her first, Thelnarel. While Hirale was well liked among the clan, it was not a typical duty for a hunter to be involved in these matters, but Hirale rarely went against his Keeper._

 _"If I may, Amelan." Hirale started, looking at his Keeper for permission. She nodded for him to continue. "If she's a new apprentice, shouldn't Thelnarel be showing her around since he's our current first?" His eyes scanned the campsite for the apprentice, but Thelnarel was nowhere to be seen. He was probably off sulking somewhere._

 _"Thelnarel hasn't been cooperative with her coming into our clan." Keeper Deshanna said calmly. "He feels his position as first will be threatened with her here."_

 _That wasn't a surprise. Thelnarel bragged often about his position as the Keeper's first, but many thought he wouldn't be a very good leader in her stead. He was often spiteful and abrasive. Having been the son of the hunt master, Aris, it was no wonder he was so aggressive._

 _Thelnarel had been fortunate enough that the other mage, the healer of the clan, hadn't wanted the responsibility of Keeper and focused all her attention on healing magics and herbs. She was also a much older member of the clan and had little patience to devote time to that sort of training._

 _And up until now, he had zero competition for the position as the Keeper's first._

 _Hirale liked her already._

 _"She must be really good for him to feel threatened." Hirale mentioned smirking._

 _"She is very talented and incredibly clever. She will be an asset to our clan." The Keeper said; a light smile brushed over her lips. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her as she walked regally. Hirale clunked next to her, his experience in stealth not quite up to par with his early stage of hunter training._

 _"But why is her clan trading her then?"_

 _"She has a… controversial take on our history." Many apprentices were valued for their magical talent and elven knowledge, while few strayed, even fewer drifted from traditional teachings. "Not many of her clanmates agreed with her and with so many apprentices already within their clan, they were planning to cast her out."_

 _"Do clans really do that?" Hirale asked, surprised his own people would turn away one of their own, especially since there was so much importance on regaining their former glory._

 _Growing up, Hirale was taught that their numbers among clans were dwindling and if they had any hope of rebuilding what was once lost, they needed to keep their numbers strong. Granted, this rarely meant including city elves into the mix, as they rarely found any city elves capable of handling Dalish life and expectation. Some clans took in city dwellers, but casting out one of their own seemed downright outrageous._

 _"Some do, unfortunately." The Keeper answered, her footsteps began to slow as they reached the edge of camp. Hirale slowed as well. "But luckily Felassan suggested she be traded into our clan. He quite likes the girl and sees her potential for great things."_

 _Felassan was very skilled with magic, though he didn't appear to be a Keeper of his clan; not that he mentioned his own clan very much at all. He traveled through all the clans and commanded a certain, unquestionable respect reserved for clan elders. He often spoke in riddles and rhetorical questions that made him a chore to talk to, at least to all the hunters._

 _Needless to say, Hirale was not a fan._

 _"Traded for who, exactly?" Hirale asked, hoping this hadn't been a trick to trade him out of their clan for an upstart apprentice. The Keeper smiled at him, reassuring him silently that it hadn't been a trap._

 _"No one, actually." The Keeper stopped and Hirale stood near her, still looking at her intently. She kept her eyes forward, waiting for the arrival of Felassan and the apprentice. "A few crafting goods and herbs and they were content."_

 _"They must really want to get rid of her." Hirale murmured, but the Keeper said nothing in response._

 _The two fell hushed as they waited. Millions of questioned buzzed around in the silence, but Hirale didn't speak a word of them. A few minutes passed before Felassan came into view, followed by a smaller figure._

 _Felassan was a peculiar man. He wore a simple cloak and tunic, never bothering with stockings or shoes. His cowl was always up, covering most of his face and vallaslin, but wild violet eyes glowed underneath the shadow. Hirale felt unnerved by the similarity of their eyes, often finding it hard to look directly at them._

 _Behind Felassan, there followed a young girl. She had long, dark hair she had wrapped in a braid and huge, orange eyes that sparked like the sunlight. Her vallaslin was fresh, a bright green twisted tree along her sun kissed cheeks and forehead to depict praise to Mythal. She had a staff strapped to her back and wore comfortable apprentice robes._

 _"Ah, Keeper Deshanna." Felassan greeted with a grin twisting along his face. His teeth were glimmering and even, but his sharp canine teeth made his grin look more menacing than playful. "It's a pleasure to see you."_

 _He bowed his head to her, offering a ridiculous curtsey with his greeting._

 _The Keeper smiled warmly._

 _"An'eth'ara, Felassan. It is good to see you." The Keeper's eyes fell upon the young, elven girl behind him. "And to you, da'len."_

 _"An'daran Atish'an, Keeper Deshanna." The girl replied. She didn't appear timid in the least. She was actively studying her surroundings, those eyes darting every which way._

 _"And Hirale!" Felassan said excitedly, turning his violet eyes to lock onto Hirale's matching pair. Hirale could feel his nervousness creep up the arch of his back and a twitch of his eyebrow, straining to look unaffected. "My, how you've grown."_

 _"An'daran Atish'an, Hahren." Hirale said, though he didn't bow in any form of respect and kept staring back into the man's eyes, unwilling to give up the staring match. Felassan simply grinned and turned to the girl behind him, bringing her around with a hand behind her back to present her._

 _"This is Aydienne." He said. The girl looked at Hirale curiously, absorbing every detail about him she could see. She extended her hand to him and he eyed it cautiously._

 _"Savhalla, Hirale." She said to him._

 _"Savhalla, Aydienne." He responded, taking her hand in a clammy shake. "It's good to meet you."_

* * *

Hirale opened his eyes to find himself engulfed in the smell of herbs and dimly lit candlelight. It was a cabin, though he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. There was a swirl of chatter outside, muted by thick wooden walls. There were animal pelts plastered to the wall and assorted knickknacks on the finely crafted bookshelves.

Hirale felt lighter, though his body ached with soreness and slumber. He quickly realized he was no longer wearing his heavy coat and had been stripped down to under armor. He immediately sat up straight, his hands grasping frantically at his chest in search for his binder.

It was _gone_.

His eyes darted around the cabin, falling onto a small chest across the room that was filled with his clothes. He leapt from the bed, sending the covers flying and nearly knocking over the burning candle on the nightstand.

He flung various clothes out of the chest, searching for the binder. When he finally found it, his body washed over in relief. He held it close to his chest affectionately before studying it carefully for any tears. It had stayed in pretty good shape, though it was clearly worn out.

Underneath his clothes were his bottles of T poultice, he was sure he had lost or had been destroyed once he had been apprehended. He sighed as he counted the number of flasks left. There were enough to barely get him through a week.

 _Well, hopefully I can head home to restock._

There was a gasp and a crash of dishes behind him and he turned around defensively to find a young elven woman, staring at him in surprise with a litter of broken saucers around her feet. Food that was once neatly placed on the plate was sloppily discarded onto the floor, fruit rolling off to whatever crevice they could find safe harbor in.

"I'm so sorry, my lord." She managed to whimper out as she fell to her knees, unafraid to fall on the shards of broken glass beneath her. She bowed her head so low to the floor she was practically dusting it with the mop of hair on her head. "I didn't know you were awake – I swear!"

"It's alright." Hirale said carefully as he eased his shoulders forward, hoping to drown out any distinguishable curves in the loose fitting tunic. "You don't need to do that." The woman didn't look up at him and muttered to herself curses at misspeaking.

"I am but a humble servant, my Lord. Please, I beg for your forgiveness and your blessing."

Hirale raised an eyebrow as he placed the binder back in the chest. _My blessing?_

"It's alright, really." Hirale said as he started placing the broken plate fragments onto the tray. The servant looked up at him carefully, in awe of his help. "You don't need to be afraid of me." He smiled to her, reassuring her he was anything but terrifying. "Just tell me where I am."

"You're back in Haven, my lord." The woman answered carefully. She sat up as well, quickly picking up the discarded pieces of food and placing them onto the tray. "They said you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand."

Hirale looked down at his hand, realizing it hadn't flickered at all and the pain was gone, just a faint soreness remained in its wake.

"It's all anyone has talked about in the last three days."

 _Three days?_

"Wait, they're actually _happy_ with me?" Hirale asked in astonishment. Trying to picture any shemlen being happy with a Dalish elf seemed ridiculous; then again, it hadn't been the first time.

"But I must inform Lady Pentaghast at once that you're awake." The servant bounced up to her feet and took off out of the doorway before Hirale could stop her. The door closed behind her loudly and Hirale was left with just himself.

He sat for a few moments, letting everything soak in before he got to his feet. Hirale quickly got dressed before anyone else barged in on him. He looked himself over in the mirror.

For the most part, he didn't look or feel all that different from before. The mark on his hand barely registered unless he looked directly at it, but what gave it away was the light outline of green Fade energy seeping into his irises.

When Hirale walked out of the cabin, he was met with rows of townspeople lined up along the pathway to the Chantry, all eyes on him in awe and quietly whispering amongst themselves. He was expecting snide remarks about him being an elf or responsible for the Breach in the first place, but what he heard instead caught him by surprise.

" _That's him! The Herald of Andraste!"_

" _He stopped the Breach from getting any bigger!"_

" _I heard he was supposed to stop it entirely."_

" _Well at least other rifts aren't opening anymore!"_

The people seemed to be in awe of him, but none approached him or spoke directly to him. His eyes scanned the sky, noting the Breach still swirling about like an ominous storm cloud. His mark didn't flicker and neither did the Breach. He nodded to the people hurriedly before rushing toward the Chantry; all those eyes leaving him unnerved.

He had only briefly been through Haven's streets before tackling the Breach, but he vaguely remembered how to get to the Chantry. It helped that it was the biggest building there.

There were few people around, most of them had been surrounding his cabin when he left but none were around the Chantry itself. He pushed open the large doors and walked in, the creak of the doors echoing in the empty hall.

Candles on the ground and along the candelabras dimly lighted the hall, a few opened holy books scattered along tables in corners. Hirale's ears twitched as he stepped quietly toward the door at the far end, a familiar, abrasive shouts muffled beyond the wooden door.

"He should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately for trial." As Hirale came closer, he recognized the voice as Chancellor Roderick's.

"Tried by whom?" Came Leliana's voice.

"By whoever becomes the Divine!" The Chancellor shouted. Hirale came closer to the door, pausing to listen to the argument before intruding.

His right hand rested on the door, prepared to push it open but he waited for a few moments, contemplating if he should open it or just leave now that the mark on his left had calmed.

"I do not believe he is guilty." Cassandra's thick voice was distinct and stern; Hirale could practically see her glare toward the Chancellor. Hirale smiled, grateful to have her on his side finally.

"The elf _failed_ , Seeker." The Chancellor challenged.

Hirale stared at his hand, watching the glow on his hand with a frown. While he disliked the Chancellor, he had a point; the Breach was still in the sky. Hirale _had_ failed.

The Chancellor's voice leaked back into Hirale's attention. "For all you know he could have planned it this way!"

"That is a little paranoid, Chancellor." Leliana reproached lightly.

Hirale sighed and placed his hand on the door, pushing it open and walking in. Cassandra and Leliana were on the opposite side of a large table with a map of Thedas draped over it.

Cassandra was leaning over the table, marking something on the map as Leliana looked over at the elf. The Chancellor stood nearby and his frown deepened when he laid eyes on Hirale.

"Chain him!" The Chancellor barked immediately as he shot a finger at him accusingly. He looked to the soldiers that stood on either side of the door, but neither moved. "I want him prepared for travel to the capital for his trial."

"Disregard him and leave us." Cassandra ordered as she stood up straight. Of the two, Cassandra was much more intimidating so the soldiers chose to listen to her and left the room obediently. The Chancellor glowered at her.

"You walk a _dangerous_ line, Seeker."

"I'd say speaking to Cassandra like _that_ is the more dangerous feat." Hirale remarked as he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the Chancellor who sneered in response.

"The Breach still remains a threat." Cassandra continued, stepping closer to the Chancellor, who in turn side stepped away. "I will _not_ ignore it."

"It may be stable, but we need to focus on completely getting rid of it instead of pointing fingers." Leliana added. Her arms folded behind her as she stood up straight, she narrowed her eyes on the Chancellor accusingly.

"There's no need to point fingers since we already know who is responsible!" Chancellor Roderick barked, motioning to Hirale. Cassandra pursed her lips, annoyed. This was going nowhere.

"So, I practically died trying to close the Breach and you _still_ think I'm responsible?" Hirale asked incredulously.

"Yet you lived." The man disparaged with a crinkled nose. "How _convenient_ for you."

"Lucky for you seeing as this mark is the only thing that seems to be able to close the rifts and the Breach." Hirale sassed as he waved his marked hand around. "But please, ship me off to Val Royeaux so I can be of no use in restoring order."

" _Gladly_."

"If you two are _finished_. The Breach is not the only threat we face." Cassandra intervened as she turned around toward a bookshelf behind them. Leliana looked at the Chancellor, her eyes cold and threatening.

"Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave." The bard conceived. "Someone Most Holy hadn't expected. Perhaps they died with the others, but they may have had accomplices." Leliana's eyes narrowed onto the Chancellor critically. "Allies that may yet live."

"Wait, _I_ am a suspect?" The Chancellor sputtered. Leliana nodded and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You _are_ a suspect." Leliana stated simply. "You, and many others."

"Yet the prisoner is not?" The Chancellor questioned. Cassandra stood next to Leliana, a book cradled in the curve of her elbow and balanced loftily on her hip.

"I heard the voices at the Temple." Cassandra interjected, waving a hand toward Hirale. "Most Holy called to him for help. If he was responsible, that vision would have shown it."

"It could have been a coincidence."

"Not _coincidence_." Cassandra insisted. She turned her eyes to Hirale, a gleam in them Hirale hadn't noticed before. "Providence. The Maker sends him to us in our darkest hour."

"Um, not to rain on your parade or anything, but I _am_ an elf." Hirale reminded carefully. Cassandra frowned. "A _Dalish_ elf."

"I have not forgotten. No matter what you are or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed you most." In all the chaos, Hirale had nearly forgotten that Cassandra was one of the faithful, and her tone had taken him aback.

Leliana continued, "The Breach remains and your mark is our only hope of sealing it and returning things to how they were before."

"This is not for _you_ to decide!"

Cassandra slammed down the heavy book in her arms onto the table. It held the same insignia as her and Leliana's armors and looked worn down with age. She pointed a finger at it, glaring daggers at the Chancellor as a quiet threat to continue arguing with them.

"You know what this is, Chancellor." She said smoothly. "A writ from the Divine granting us the authority to act as we need in times of crisis." The Chancellor's face fell and Cassandra continued. "As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn."

"You are as stubborn as the tales describe you, Seeker." Chancellor Roderick tried to derail, but Cassandra wasn't having it.

"We _will_ close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order." Cassandra rounded on him and the man began to step back toward the door. Even unarmed, Cassandra was quite intimidating. "With or _without_ your approval."

The Chancellor jeered at her, but there was no winning this fight. He recoiled and stormed out of the room angrily, muttering curses under his breath. As the door opened and the man left, Commander Cullen strode in, his hand rested comfortably on his sheathed sword and a smirk plastered on his face.

Behind him was a woman embellished in golden ruffles and blue satin. She wore fine jewels strung along together in a loose necklace. Her skin was smooth and dark, with her cheeks rogued slightly with blush. Her black hair was pulled back into braids, twisted around into a bun and a few rogue strands curled around her face. She held a clipboard in her hand and a feathered quill in her other, a permanent flick of the wrist in her hands posture.

"He didn't look pleased." The Commander said with a smirk, taking his place on the opposite side of the table next to Cassandra. The flashy woman followed behind him, and took her place on the other side of the table as well.

"He was not. Not that that's news." Cassandra replied with a snort. She looked back to Hirale and gestured to the Commander. "You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition forces."

"It was brief, but it's good to see you up and about." The Commander said, a light smile as he nodded to Hirale. "I didn't properly thank you for your help on the battlefield. Without you pushing me out of the way, that demon surely would have gotten the upper hand."

"Oh, it was nothing." Hirale replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

Cassandra continued, "This is Lady Montilyet, our Ambassador and diplomat."

"Andaran Atish'an." She greeted and Hirale's ears perked, violet eyes wide and excited.

"Dirthas Elvhen?" He asked eagerly.

Josephine immediately deflated and looked at him blushingly, busying herself with some note taking. "I'm afraid you've heard the entirety of it, I'm afraid."

"And of course, Sister Leliana." Cassandra gestured to the red head. Hirale nodded to her.

"My position here requires a degree of-" Leliana started.

"She's our spymaster." Cassandra said bluntly, earning an eye roll and a sigh from Leliana.

"Tactful as always, Cassandra."

"That's a fancy bunch of titles." Hirale said, sounding impressed though he wasn't entirely sure why any of it was important. "But do you have a plan for the Breach?"

"Luckily, the mark is stabilized now and you've bought us time." Cassandra explained. She stepped around the table and toward him. "Solas believes a second attempt to seal it would work, provided it has enough power."

"The same level of power used to open it in the first place." Leliana clarified further. "Which is why we should approach the rebel mages for aid."

"I _still_ disagree." Cullen interjected, turning toward Leliana. "The templars could serve just as well."

"We need _magic_ , Commander." Leliana insisted. "Enough magic poured into the mark-"

"May destroy us all!" Cullen interjected. Hirale noted the Templar insignia on his shield possibly as a big reason for his mistrust of mages. "The templars are the only means at containing such calamity. Templars can suppress the Breach and make it weak so-"

"That's pure speculation." Leliana conceded, thoroughly unconvinced. The Commander looked completely frustrated with her, he rubbed his temples and scowled at her.

" _I_ was a templar." Cullen stated emphatically, though that didn't seem to sway the spymaster any more than before. "I know what they're capable of better than anyone here." Leliana and Cassandra exchanged looks. Cullen added, "And that goes for the mages as well."

"If I may." Hirale intervened, raising a hand to get their attention. Immediately, all eyes were on him and he felt his entire body become ten times warmer. "My clan, and many other clans, benefitted from the knowledge and skill of mages that couldn't be matched by warriors."

"Templars are not just _simple warriors_." Cullen started, but Hirale held up his hand.

"True, but mages can provide _power_ as well as suppression." Hirale argued. He had never really considered which side of the templar and mage war he fell on, but he couldn't stop thinking of what Aydienne would do.

 _"Mages are treated like prisoners outside of our clans, da'mi." She once told him. It was shortly after the explosion in Kirkwall that started sending the shemlen world into turmoil. "They aren't given the respect and rights of regular people simply because they were born with a gift someone fears. Imagine, being locked up because of your ability to wield a battle axe."_

 _"That's hardly the same, da'avise."_

 _"But isn't it?" Aydienne urged. "You possess a skill that could be used to kill someone or defend or help someone. Locking up everyone capable of swordsmanship for what might happen with a few is unfair and unjust." She looked toward the horizon sadly, her face drenched in orange dusk light. "The templars would make criminals of the mages before they even had the right to decide."_

 _"I suppose you're right." Hirale said carefully._

 _"I'm always right." Aydienne laughed._

Hirale exhaled and looked Cullen directly in the eye. "And given the state of things and how the Chantry treats them, the mages may have more to prove than the templars."

Cullen fell quiet, his eyes studying Hirale's face thoughtfully. Josephine cleared her throat as she scribbled something on her clipboard.

"Unfortunately, neither group will even speak with us just yet." Josephine stated. "The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition… and you, more specifically."

"That didn't take long." Hirale laughed, some of the tension releasing from his shoulders. "They aren't concerned about the Breach?"

"The Chantry loves to focus on unimportant matters. Shouldn't they be scrambling to find a new Divine?" Commander Cullen remarked, looking at Josephine with a snide look. Hirale was surprised to hear an ex-Templar speak so disdainfully of the Chantry, but then again he _was_ an ex-Templar.

Josephine ignored the Commander's uncouth comment. "Well, some are calling _you_ , a Dalish elf, the Herald of Andraste."

Hirale laughed. "Now, that's just silly. My name doesn't even have a 'd' in it." Cullen chuckled and Hirale immediately smiled at the Commander, his heart beating quickly and his palms becoming sweaty.

"The mere thought of you being Andraste's chosen frightens them." Josephine explained. "The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy and we as heretics for harboring you."

"Chancellor Roderick clearly wasted no time in slandering your name." Leliana added.

"Fantastic." Hirale breathed. He thought more about it and everything felt so heavy around him. Nothing could be the least bit simple now. "The Chosen of Andraste?"

"Speaking of fancy titles." Cullen quipped. Hirale glanced over at him to find him smirking and his face felt pink again. Luckily, the lighting in the room could hide that. "How do you feel about that?"

"I'm not the chosen one…" Hirale answered. "Particularly not Andraste."

Cullen nodded in agreement, adding, "I'm sure the Chantry would agree."

"You must understand the people are desperate for a sign of hope." Leliana explained. She looked at Hirale with cold eyes that Hirale, for a moment, mistook as being melancholy. "For some, you're that sign."

"And to others, a symbol of everything gone wrong." Josephine added, though Hirale could have done without that little amendment.

"Should we be worried the Chantry will attack us?" Hirale asked. After the war started, the templars broke away from the Chantry but Hirale was unsure if they had a backup army hidden away somewhere.

"With what?" Cullen asked with a cynical chuckle. "They only have words at their disposal. If the templar order had stayed with them, sure, but otherwise they have no means."

"And yet, they may very well bury us with their slander." Josephine warned.

"There _is_ something you can do." Leliana said, trying to deter them from the negative toll the conversation was taking. "There is a Chantry mother, by the name of Mother Giselle, in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe, that wishes to speak with you." Hirale exchanged looks with Cassandra hesitantly. "She knows many people involved in the Chantry better than I do and her help could be invaluable."

"Why would anyone from the Chantry want to speak to me?" Hirale asked. "Didn't we just get done saying the Chantry thinks I'm a heretic?"

"I understand she's more reasonable than her sisters." Leliana further rationalized. "She may see more importance in helping us close the Breach rather than pointing fingers as to why it happened."

"And why is a Chantry Mother roughin' it in the woods?" Hirale didn't often see Chantry mothers out and about in the forests. They typically stayed in the overdone Chantry halls built of stained glass and polished stone.

"She's tending to refugees there." Leliana answered. "The fighting has become much more hostile with the explosion."

"While you're there, look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition's influence." Cullen suggested.

"Kind gestures to refugees or helping out soldiers could benefit our reputation greatly." Josephine clarified. "And look for agents to extend our reach beyond this valley."

"Why _me_?"

"You're better suited than anyone to convince others." The Ambassador answered. "While many are skeptical of you, there are many who believe you're the Chosen One and that could work to your advantage."

"There will be other options as well." Cassandra spoke up. She turned to Hirale, the two of them attempting to read one another's poker face. "You won't be doing this alone." She added and extended her hand to him. "That is, _if_ you're willing to help us."

"If you plan to restore order…" Hirale started.

"That is the plan, yes." Leliana replied.

"Help us fix this before it's too late." Cassandra implored, though it sounded more of a statement than asking. Hirale's eyes falling to Cassandra's hand as he weighed his options. There was very little he could do, but joining this Inquisition was a big decision. If he left, the world would fall into chaos, as he was the only one capable of closing the Breach. If he stayed, he wouldn't be able to return home and his entire life was bound to change.

 _But if I don't help, my home could be in danger anyway._

He took Cassandra's hand firmly. "I'll do it."

* * *

A few days had passed as they waited to hear from Leliana's scouts in the Hinterlands. Cassandra was adamant about sending scouts to find Mother Giselle before Hirale and company journey out that way. The Hinterlands were very large and with the fighting between mages and templars becoming more violent, Cassandra wanted to be as prepared as possible. This gave Hirale some much needed time to recover.

The mark hadn't grown any more since Hirale had sealed that last rift and it had become much more stable upon his hand. It didn't hurt anymore, but just glowed and whirred calmly. His violet eyes still held a tint of green along the line of his iris and sometimes he felt a bit lightheaded, but nothing too strenuous.

The potion master, Adan, had been explicit that Hirale still needed a few more days to recover before heading out into battle-heavy chaos. Granted, Adan had _also_ told him to cut back on any vigorous activity, such as hunting, but Hirale conveniently ignored that bit of advice.

Hirale explored the woods outside of Haven. The calm of the woods brought him back to the simple life with his clan. He spent most of his time away from Haven and into the forest, leaving by first dawn and not returning until the last meal of the day.

The woods were a comfort compared to the life around town.

While the townspeople hadn't said anything directly to Hirale, he was not oblivious to the sideways looks and whispers they exchanged whenever he walked past them. They were a mix of prejudice or skepticism that Hirale just didn't have the patience for.

But it wasn't just the humans that made it difficult.

Many of the elves around the camp were servants and could barely look Hirale in the eye let alone hold up any sort of conversation. There were absolutely no Dalish other than himself. The only one willing to discuss anything truly elven was Solas, and the mage had made it abundantly clear his distain for the Dalish.

The last time they spoke, Hirale nearly got into a one-sided screaming match with the apostate. It had gotten so heated that Adan and his apprentice had to break it up. So, it was best they remained at a safe distance from one another.

It was nearly noon as Hirale sat perched atop a boulder, watching a herd of nugs scampering around the snow and wondering how they could stay warm without any fur of their own, when a scout came running up to him. He wore a scarf over his head, possibly for stealth but more likely for warmth in the snowy tundra.

"My Lord." The scout said as he came closer.

He brought his fist to his chest and bowed respectfully to Hirale, who still wasn't quite used to this sort of treatment and simply stared back awkwardly.

"Lady Ambassador wishes to speak to you."

"To me?" Hirale asked. He had very little interaction with Lady Montilyet, not because she was dislikeable, because she hadn't been, but rather he had little to nothing to talk to her about. At least with Cassandra or Cullen, they could get lost in discussing training exercises or various types of fighting styles. "Did she say what for?"

"I'm afraid not, my Lord." The scout replied. Hirale sighed and stared back at the nugs for a little bit before standing up on the boulder.

"Alright." Hirale said as he jumped off the boulder, simultaneously scaring the nugs off into the forest as he landed. Hirale frowned toward the woods and pulled out a slice of bread from his pack, crumbling it up in his hand. "I'll head back to the Chantry now. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Herald."

" _Hirale._ " He corrected as his ears flattened, annoyed, but the scout had already left.

Hirale chirped toward where the nugs had scampered off and tossed a few crumbs of bread around the snow. They peered back out from the forest, noses twitching and ears flailing as they cautiously approached the offering. Hirale walked away and the nugs devoured the bits of bread he had left them.

He followed the pathway back toward Haven, passing the training grounds where Cullen was drilling the recruits on their form. Cassandra was nearby, training alone, but viciously against a training dummy.

 _Better that than me._ Hirale thought for a moment, thinking back to when they first met. He continued into the main gates, unnerved by the sudden hush that fell over a few of the townsfolk as he passed.

Hirale hated this attention.

He quickly made his way to the Chantry and to Josephine's office. He could hear a light conversation behind the wood. Hirale pushed open the heavy door to find Josephine speaking with a ridiculously dressed man. He wore a combination of blue, yellow, and brown silks with a large collar designed with shimmering plaidweave. He wore a mask, indicating he was Orlesian that covered most of his face.

"You simply can't stay here." He insisted to Josephine, who looked a bit exasperated from their discussion. The man pounded his fist in his palm, trying to be more emphatic. "You can't prove that it was founded on Justinia's orders."

"This is an inopportune time, Marquis. More of the faithful flock here each day." Josephine argued, fluttering her fingers airily. She looked over to Hirale and politely smiled at him. "But allow me to introduce you to the brave soul who risked his life to slow the magic of the Breach."

The odd man turned to look at Hirale, though he didn't seem at all enthused.

"Master Lavellan, this is the Marquis DuRellion. He's one of Justinia's strongest supporters."

"And the _rightful_ owner of Haven." The Marquis added petulantly. "This Inquisition is not part of the arrangement. Surely you can respect that." He looked directly to Hirale, attempting to bolster sympathy, but received none.

"Honestly, I didn't know that Haven was owned by _anyone_." Hirale deadpanned. "And aren't there more pressing issues than ownership of Haven?"

"Yes of course, but you must understand this is about what the late Divine Justinia would have wanted." The Marquis insisted, but Hirale just stared at him. "I will not let an upstart order remain on her holy ground."

"That's interesting… considering this order was founded by the right and left hands of the Divine." Hirale scoffed. It was clear the Marquis was absolutely offended, despite his mask hiding his expression. He puffed up.

"Neither Sister Leliana nor Seeker Pentaghast have given me a written record of the Divine approving an Inquisition."

"You need it written out?" Hirale asked, raising an eyebrow to the Marquis before glancing sideways to Josephine. "Isn't their word good enough?"

"No." The Marquis stated firmly.

"Oh dear." A grim tone took over Josephine's features as she 'tsked' under her breath. She looked at the Marquis pointedly. "If you won't take her at her word, I'm afraid Seeker Pentaghast _must_ challenge you to a duel."

"W-what?" The Marquis stuttered. Hirale's eyes lit up, grinning at the Ambassador.

"It's a matter of honor among the Navarran's." Josephine explained. She looked at her board, her finger running down the schedule hastily before stopping near the bottom. She held her pen ready as she looked up at the Marquis again. "Shall I arrange the bout for tonight?"

"Sounds excellent." Hirale chimed in happily. The Marquis was sweating. "I can inform Cassandra for you."

"No. No." The Marquis held up his hands. He sighed, defeated and straightened himself. "Perhaps my reaction to the Inquisition's presence was a bit… _hasty_."

"It is a dark time, my grace." Josephine soothed. She had a remarkably calming voice and managed to stay more even toned than Hirale ever could with such nonsense. "The Divine wouldn't want her passing to divide us. She would in fact, trust us to form alliances to benefit all." The Marquis turned to her and she smiled cordially. "No matter how strange they may appear."

"I'll need to think on it, Lady Montilyet." The man concluded, but he didn't appear to be putting up much of a fight like he had earlier. Fear of Cassandra Pentaghast was enough to eat away any man's confidence. "In the meantime, I suppose, the Inquisition can stay."

"Thank you, Marquis." Josephine called to him as he left the office.

Hirale waited a few moments, to give the Marquis ample time to walk away from the door, before turning to Josephine and asking, "So, does the Marquis actually own Haven?"

"Not exactly." Josephine answered. She placed her pen at the top of the board and walked over to her neatly organized desk. "Haven is technically on Ferelden ground and the Marquis is Orlesian." Hirale assumed that meant something important. Luckily, he didn't have to ask, she continued, "If the Marquis wishes to claim ownership of Haven, Empress Celene would have to address King Alistair for the rights."

"How likely is that?"

"Not very, given that the Empress currently has larger concerns." Josephine answered as she rounded her desk, sitting down in the large chair as she placed her papers out in front of her. "There is a civil war in Orlais and the Empress cannot be bothered with minor property disputes."

"So there's a civil war in Orlais as well as the templar and mage war?" Hirale asked with a raised brow. Josephine nodded and Hirale sighed. "Well, at least the Marquis can't toss us out into the cold then. Hopefully that's the last we see of him."

"His grace is just the first of the many dignitaries we'll contend with."

"You think more are going to show up?"

"Undoubtedly." Josephine replied. "And each visitor will spread the story of the Inquisition after they depart. That's why it's very important we meet them with level heads and diplomatic approach."

Hirale made a solemn face.

He was not the one who should be talking to diplomats. He could barely be cordial to Thelnarel, and he was supposed to be in a position worthy of respect. Who knows what damage Hirale could do by not posturing correctly?

"Don't worry, Herald. I'll handle that." Josephine must have noticed his expression falter. She gave him a reassuring smile. "As Ambassador, it's my duty to make sure their visits are as complementary as possible."

"Oh good." Hirale laughed, relieved that he wouldn't have to pander too much to the sensibilities of nobles. "I'm not exactly the best with shem- I mean, _humans_ … least of all politicians or nobility." Hirale admitted.

 _Aydienne would have been better at this._

At least they had Josephine. He looked at the Ambassador gratefully and added, "We're lucky to have you."

"Thank you. Let us hope so. Thedas' politics have become… agitated as of late." Josephine sighed as she scribbled something on a few pieces of parchment. "I hope to guide us down smoother paths." Her hand moved to a small pile of envelopes, and pulled out one from the top of the stack. She held it out to him. "But before I forget, I wanted to give you this."

Hirale took the envelope. It smelled of the woods and herbs, urging nostalgic memories of the forest to seep into his thoughts. The parchment was like that he and the twins used for map making and it was tied firmly by a pale rope, similar to ones they had for fixing the aravels.

"It's from your Clan." Josephine said before Hirale could ask. Hirale stared at the parchment with large, wistful violet eyes. "They're concerned about you staying with us and whether or not it's… voluntary."

He unraveled the rope eagerly, tearing through the envelope brutally, and pulled out the letter. The writing was neat and beautifully swirled, and it occurred to Hirale he had never seen his Keeper's handwriting before.

 _Clan Lavellan offers greetings to the Inquisition and wishes it well in sealing the Breach that has opened in the sky. While some Dalish clans hate humans and wish nothing to do with them, Clan Lavellan has always dealt fairly with all and wished only for peace. That said, we have on occasion been forced to defend ourselves from those who saw us only as potential victims._

 _It has come to our attention that a member of our clan is being held captive by your Inquisition. He went to the Conclave only to observe the peace talks between your mages and Templars, and we find it highly unlikely that he intentionally violated your customs. If he has been charged with a crime, we would appreciate hearing it. If not, it would ease our concerns to hear from him to know that he remains with the Inquisition on his own will._

 _We await your reply,_

 _Keeper Istimaethorial Deshanna Lavellan_

"I shall send some elven scouts to approach them to explain the matter." Josephine stated. Hirale hadn't realized he had been holding his breath as he read the letter and he exhaled loudly.

"I would like to send a letter with the scouts, if you don't mind." Hirale said quickly, as if Josephine's words had already travelled out of the room and to the scouts, informing them of their duties. Josephine didn't seem to be a mage, but she had a proclivity for making magic happen around Haven so it wouldn't have surprised him. "I think the Clan would be more at ease if they were given the news in my own words."

"As you wish, Herald."

" _Hirale._ " He corrected automatically as he looked over the letter again, but it was becoming more of a reflex than an annoyance. He folded the letter and placed it in a pocket on the inside of his jacket. "If that's all you needed, Ambassador…"

"No. That's not all I wished to discuss with you, Master Lavellan." Josephine said as she placed her papers down in a neat pile on the corner of her desk. Hirale's brow raised curiously.

"Oh?"

"I should like to know if anyone has treated you unkindly…" Josephine paused and Hirale made a confused face, unsure of what she meant. "For being an elf."

That caught Hirale by surprise.

"Well, I'm mostly in the woods by myself, so it's really hard for them to disrespect me to my face when I'm not around." Hirale laughed but Josephine sucked her teeth and frowned.

"Tsk. I shall speak with the staff about their conduct." She concluded, jotting down a quick note for herself.

"There's really no need to do that."

"If we're to convince the world that Andraste's Herald is an elf, then the Inquisition should show it's utmost support for you." Josephine explained.

Hirale hadn't considered that a potential problem, but he also wasn't entirely on board with convincing anyone he was the Herald of Andraste.

"Stories of ' _wild Dalish elves_ ' have grown more outrageous as people learn of you."

"Isn't the Hero of Ferelden also Dalish?" Hirale asked, vaguely remembering being lectured by Aydienne about the fifth blight.

"Yes, but she is a Grey Warden _not_ Andraste's Herald."

" _Hirale._ " He corrected lightly. "But how could they have gotten worse?" Hirale asked, amused. Josephine's face fell as she considered her words.

"I'd rather not repeat them." She said finally.

"C'mon…"

Josephine sighed. "Stealing children, selling peasants into slavery, burning villages, using children for blood rituals…"

"They forgot about the part where we steal your breath and turn into dragons." Hirale joked.

"Don't say that too loud, Herald. I'm sure people would be eager to circulate that rumor as well." Josephine countered, a slight smile at the corner of her lips indicated she at least found him somewhat funny. "Those are just the stories of your fellow Dalish. I won't repeat what they've said about _you_."

"I'm not surprised." Hirale added, shrugging as he crossed his arms. "Humans that tell those tales are the first to turn a knife on someone with pointed ears."

"You've experienced this before?" Josephine asked, genuinely surprised. It hadn't occurred to him that not all humans had _seen_ this treatment of elves. Hirale couldn't be mad at her for not knowing. He sighed.

"Yes. While my clan has always traded with local villages, there are always a few thugs thinking they can pull a fast one on us because we're elves."

"Oh… I did not realize…" Josephine said slowly before her face changed determinedly. It reminded him of Aydienne wanting to defend the weak. Of how Aydienne wanted to defend _him_. "I will do all I can to end the slander." She paused, thinking for a moment before she pulled her parchment closer and looked at him expectantly. "It would help if I learned more about how your clan lived."

"Is that a roundabout way of asking to get to know me?" Hirale asked coyly and Josephine immediately began to stutter embarrassedly before he added, "I'm just playing, Ambassador.

"We are always busy. Everyone has a job to do. Getting up before dawn to fish, tending to our aravels… er, wagons and tents, spending _days_ on the hunt."

Hirale's eyes glazed over with yearning tears. Josephine looked fascinated. Her eyes were wide and inquiring; eager to hear everything he had to say. It must have been completely different from how she was raised. Her clothes alone spoke the volumes of privilege she had and the way she spoke to nobility made it clear she was accustomed to first class living.

How alien it must have been to her to listen to his life in the woods.

"But the best part was when our wagons left the plains and came to the woods. My friends and I would spend weeks exploring the forests. Scoping out new trails and caves. Every day was an adventure."

"You make it sound so… idyllic."

"It really is." Hirale said. He had considered all the times Aydienne had tried to explain Orlesian life to him, hoping he'd be interested. Up until now, that knowledge just didn't seem applicable. "Can you tell me about how you live? Orlesians, I mean?"

Josephine's face lit up.

They had spent little over half an hour discussing the differences between Dalish life and city life. Hirale and pulled up a chair, sitting backwards in it with his arms draped over the back of it as he and the Ambassador traded stories of home.

" _I'm_ still marveling over the fact you have food delivered straight to your doorsteps!"

"Really? I hadn't considered it extraordinary." Josephine replied, astonished.

"It's quite amazing to me, honestly. We hunt all the time and rarely keep meat that we don't plan to eat that day." Hirale explained. "And these desserts you have. I've never eaten thing as sweet as fruit but… not actually fruit."

"Ooh! Have you ever tried the frilly cakes they sell at the Val Royeaux market?" Josephine asked, though the answer was obvious. "They are to die for. They're so moist and decadent. You _must_ try them. I'll order some in our next shipment from the capital."

"Sounds like a plan." Hirale smiled, grateful to have made another friend as it made him forget his homesickness.

* * *

 _Keeper Deshanna,_

 _An'daran atish'an. Rest assured, I am fine. After the explosion at the Conclave, I woke up with a mark on my hand that's capable of closing the rifts that opened when the breach was created. Apparently, it's the only thing that can close a rift. As much as I would love to return home, I have to restore order, and if that means closing the breach with the Inquisition then so be it. I'm sure you'll understand that I do this with our clan in mind._

 _The Inquisition initially was skeptical of my involvement with what happened at the Conclave, as I don't remember anything prior to after the breach, but since I have agreed to help, they've been very courteous._

 _I do hope Aydienne is staying out of trouble and fighting less with you, but then again I know that's just wishful thinking. Please send her my love and let her know I'm okay. I miss her terribly, as I do the rest of the clan._

 _Human life is so bizarre._

 _The elves I've met here offer very little comfort to that of our clan. It only adds to my homesickness. Most of them are from cities or alienages and many of them seem intimidated by my being Dalish. One elf in particular, Solas, claims to be an elven expert, but I think he's just an arrogant egghead. While he seems very smart and magically talented, he has very clear prejudices against the Dalish and our culture. It's a chore speaking with him. There's also something off about him. I think he may be hiding something from us._

 _I hope to be rid of the rifts and the breach very soon so I may return home. I've also run out of my T poultice. I don't think it's too noticeable that I've gone without it, but I would prefer to maintain the therapy. If you could ask Aydienne to make more and send them, I would appreciate it._

 _Dareth shiral,_

 _Hirale._

Hirale looked over his letter a few more times before heading out of his cabin. It took him quite a few hours to complete, given he wasn't the best with words.

 _Maybe I should have asked Varric for help._ Hirale thought, glancing over to where the dwarf was, prodding a fire with a stick. He shrugged and called to one of the scouts that had been waiting near the front gate. They had returned earlier that day with news of Mother Giselle's whereabouts and the state of the Hinterlands.

The scout was a small, dwarven woman and had two sharpened daggers perched on her back, poised and ready for battle. She had red eyebrows, giving away that she had red hair hidden away beneath her cowl. Hirale handed her the envelope carefully, as if it would shatter if it were dropped; alas, it was still just parchment.

"Please, deliver this letter to my Keeper when you go." Hirale asked and the scout nodded to him as she placed the letter in her small satchel attached to her hip.

"Of course, Herald."

"It's _Hirale_." He sighed, but the scout didn't correct herself and simply bowed to him before rejoining the other scouts. Hirale shrugged and walked over toward Varric.

"Cassandra mentioned that Leliana's scouts have sent word. She'll probably want us to leave here in a few days, if not sooner." Varric said as he looked over to the scouts then over to Hirale as he tossed the stick in his hand into the flames. "But now that Cassandra's out of earshot, how are you holding up?"

"A little overwhelmed, I suppose." Hirale answered as he leaned against the stone just below the Quartermaster's set up. He watched as the people of Haven scampered around, busily going about their day as if the rip in the sky were just an unwelcome afterthought.

"That would be an understatement." Varric chuckled. "You went from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the Andrastian faithful." The dwarf gave him a sideways look, playfully smirking at him as he gestured with his hands. "Most people would have spread that out a little more than just a few days."

"Believe me, I can barely keep up." Hirale said with a laugh. He was glad that someone was willing to joke around with him about it. It made everything feel less grim. "Honestly though, none of this shit should have happened."

"You don't know the half of it." Varric agreed. "For nearly a week we've watched the Breach pour out demons and Maker knows what. It's not exactly good for morale."

Hirale nodded and studied Varric for a moment. "If it was really that bad, why didn't you walk away?"

He had considered many times that he should leave because all of this was a bit too much to handle. Hirale could have easily slipped away while he was out in the forest and none would have been able to track him; save, Leliana herself perhaps.

"The same reason you didn't, I suppose." Varric paused, looking at Hirale's hand. He smiled lightheartedly. "Granted, _you_ had a much more prominent reason for staying than I did. It's just… as much as I want to believe I'm this selfish, irresponsible cad, thousands of people died on that mountain. _I_ was almost one of them." Varric sighed. "Now there's a big hole in the sky. Even _I_ just can't walk away from that."

The dwarf had a point. They were stuck until this issue was resolved.

The elf sighed. "I'm not even sure any of this is really happening. It seems so surreal."

"Do you need a pinch?" Varric joked, teasingly tapping his fingertips together toward Hirale, who swatted them away. "I will say, if you see an opportunity, you should hightail it out of here. I've written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere, I've seen them."

Varric frowned and Hirale furrowed his brow. Hirale hadn't read any of Varric's books, but Aydienne had, _of course_. She had even read the one about the Champion of Kirkwall, but Hirale vaguely remembered that it was riddled with a lot of tragedy, and that was one of Varric's _nonfiction_ books.

"But the hole in the sky? That's something else entirely." The rogue remarked wistfully as he stared up into the sky, watching as the Breach churned quietly in the clouds. "We won't need heroes. We'll need a damned miracle."

"And you say _the Breach_ is bad for morale." Hirale laughed dryly.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for waiting so long for the update. Don't worry, I plan on having things pick up in the next chapter or so. A little Cullen/Hirale fluff too to get us started down the slippery slope of romance!

*Mabari Helm – So, I'm a firm believer that Cullen's helm should be a Mabari because that's Ferelden, as is he, while a Lion is an Orlesian symbol. So, there's that change because it's my headcanon. Important things!

Please, read/review/follow/etc. I'm glad so many people are already starting to like this story. It feels a bit slow right now, but it'll pick up in later chapters. So thanks again everyone!  
As before, I'd like to give credit to and endless thanks for many of the Elvhen phrases to FenxShiral for their incredible work on deconstructing the Elvhen language. To find Project Elvhen /works/3553883/chapters/7825850 or visit their tumblr under the FenxShiral tag.

 **Translations:**

An'eth'ara - (Informal) Greetings / My place is safe.

An'daran Atish'an - (Formal) Greetings / Welcome / The place you go is safe.

Savahalla - (Informal) Hello

Dirthas Elvhen? - "You speak Elvhen?"


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N:** Thanks for all the follows and favorites, everybody! Finally back from vacation and the season is over for my derby team so it'll be a little easier to bust out some chapters. I feel like this chapter goes a little slower than I'd like, which is why it took me _so_ long to finish it. I ended up writing more for the next chapter than this one, so that one shouldn't take me as long to finish/publish. :)

 **The Path that Leads Astray**

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

Hirale had left Haven before dawn to explore the woods one last time before they headed out to the Hinterlands to find Mother Giselle. With the Hinterlands being a hotbed for the templar and mage fighting, he doubted he'd have much time to enjoy the quiet of the wilderness.

Travelling wouldn't be too strenuous on him and Cassandra was itching to get things resolved as soon as possible. Hirale reluctantly agreed. The quicker he could finish all this Breach nonsense, the sooner he could return home and be back to his regular life.

Despite becoming pretty good friends with Josephine and Varric, Hirale still felt completely out of place and alone among the humans. They didn't hunt the same nor worshipped their god the same way or anything. They met in the Chantry and prayed to candlelit paintings of Andraste while the priests sang the Chant of Light. It was all very embellished worshipping that made Hirale feel sacrilegious every time he stepped into the Chantry.

To stave off the homesickness, Hirale had formed a rudimentary shrine to Andruil in the forest to pay respect to. As a hunter, he was accustomed to praying to her often enough for successful hunts. In this case, the hunt for whomever started the Breach.

Josephine advised him that worshipping an Elvhen god in Haven might deter potential recruits as he was considered a religious figure to many. While Hirale didn't agree, nor liked pretending to be Andraste's Herald, he still obliged.

But it only made him feel more homesick and alone.

"Andruil, aim me true." Hirale whispered through clasped palms as the incense burned, smoke twisting around him. There was a little chirping near him from the nugs sniffing around as they investigated him and the tiny shrine, but they quickly dispersed when he stood up.

Overall, it had been a very successful morning in the woods.

While wandering around, he found an old abandoned cabin. Hirale searched around and found a few parchment sheets of notes that Adan had mentioned to him in passing.

The potion master was a stuffy man and Hirale didn't get the impression he liked the elf much, or _anyone_ for that matter, so he thought it would be a good way to thank him, without _actually_ thanking him, for healing him after his first go at the Breach.

It was only when Hirale began to hear the chatter of soldiers running their drills, did he start to head back to Haven. He placed the notes safely in his pack and emerged from the tree line to see a plethora of new recruits fighting one-on-one. Many men and women came to the Inquisition over the past few days, offering their help. Their numbers were increasing dramatically.

"You there!" Hirale could hear Cullen's voice as he approached the training yard.

Cullen stalked up and down between the troops as they fought, swords clattering against one another and shields awkwardly flying. He frowned at a recruit, who looked at him embarrassedly.

"There's a shield in your hand, _block_ with it! If this man were your enemy you'd be _dead_."

The Commander turned to the man standing near him, one of his lieutenants that Hirale never managed to remember the name of. He had long blond hair and wore heavy templar armor, and stood quietly behind the Commander, nodding appropriately when spoken to.

 _He looks busy._ Hirale thought as he looked to Cullen.

Hirale hadn't spent much time with the Commander, but he always found his eyes wandering over to the training yard to catch a glimpse of the man. Cullen was not hard to look at, but Hirale knew better than to consider trying anything.

 _For one, he's a Shem._ Hirale reminded himself. _And for two, he probably isn't interested in a Dalish_ _ **man**_ _._

Hirale had a terrible habit of talking himself out of pursuing someone before he even knew if he stood a chance to begin with. He often imagined how they'd react to the elf's incorrect body and it made him that much more terrified. Only the Keeper and Aydienne had ever seen his bare body before, anyone he became intimate with never lasted long enough for them to really _see_ him.

Cullen nodded over to him and Hirale's eyes lit up.

 _I suppose I can stop by for a few minutes._ He quickly fumbled through the busy recruits, eager to waste some time before meeting up with Cassandra, especially if it meant meandering with the Commander.

 _I can look, at least._

"The recruits need to be prepared for _actual_ combat, not just practice." Cullen said to the lieutenant and the man nodded in agreement.

"Yes, sir." He pounded a fist to his chest respectfully to Cullen and bowed to Hirale as the elf approached. "Herald."

" _Hirale_ …" He pursed his lips. But the lieutenant was already gone.

"We've received a number of new recruits." Cullen said as he crossed his arms over his chest, observing the trainees as they fought. The Commander's reputation preceded him. Hirale hadn't even begun to campaign for the Inquisition, but the number of recruits was increasing daily and Cullen hadn't even left Haven.

"It's impressive." Hirale admitted.

It was a shock to see _anyone_ supporting the Inquisition after the apparent denouncement from the Chantry. Hirale wasn't well versed in human affairs, but he assumed they were all obsessed with the Chantry, or Andraste at least.

"Many of them want to help put an end to this chaos. With the Divine's death, the templar and mage war is becoming more hostile. Many simply want it to be over." Cullen paused and looked over to Hirale. The elf felt a wave of heat rise up through him and suddenly felt jittery. "Though… none of them made quite the entrance _you_ did."

"I was too flashy, wasn't I?" Hirale squeaked, hoping to alleviate his nerves with jokes. His brow was sweating. "I have a tendency to peacock." He twiddled his fingers up like feathers behind his head playfully.

Cullen breathed a chuckle, the edges of his lips curving so slightly. Hirale smiled widely.

"Well, it certainly got everyone's attention."

He called out to a few more recruits, barking orders at them and criticizing their stances. Hirale stared off toward them inertly before clearing his throat.

"So, how did you get mixed in with all this?"

"Lady Cassandra recruited me in Kirkwall." Cullen answered, turning back to Hirale and nodding forward, away from the trainees. "I was a Knight-Captain at the Circle there. I was there when the mage uprising started. I've seen first hand what devastation this rebellion can do."

"Sir!" Someone called to him from behind. A scout handed Cullen a clipboard that he scanned over as they walked forward through the rows of tents set up.

"Cassandra offered me a position within the Inquisition." Cullen continued as he scribbled a signature and handed it back to the scout, who took off as quickly as he appeared. "I left the Templar Order to help her cause."

"You believe in the Inquisition _that_ much? Just to leave your Order?"

"I do."

"But wasn't that your home? How could you just walk away?" Hirale asked, more urgently.

He knew humans didn't form clans and wander the countryside together, but an order like that must be somewhat like a family to him. Surely, Hirale wasn't the only person here having difficulty leaving their home behind.

"It _wasn't_ that simple." Cullen said softly. Hirale saw the twinge of regret jump through the Commander's expression and he immediately felt like an ass. Cullen continued, "The Chantry lost control of both the templars and its mages. Staying within the Order wouldn't give me the ability to help change things. Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains."

"You don't seem to like the Chantry very much…" Hirale observed, hoping to change the subject enough and pretend his little faux pas never happened.

"I don't believe they have their priorities set straight and that does more harm than good, honestly." Cullen said, earning a nod of agreement from the elf. "The Inquisition can act while the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be _part_ of that. Part of something bigger and better."

Cullen clapped his fist into his hand, everything shifting from regret to purpose and passion. The way his voice sounded, soft but so strong made Hirale's stomach flip. He wished he felt as the Commander did, but hearing him speak only made Hirale realize how selfish he really was.

 _All this time, I've wanted to go home… but he actually wants to do something good with this._

"There's so much we can…" Cullen trailed off when he saw Hirale looking up at him with huge violet eyes. He sighed, embarrassed, and scratched the back of his head. "Forgive me, I doubt you came here for a lecture."

"No," Hirale smiled at Cullen. He was accustomed to hearing lectures in his clan; at least this one was more interesting than those. He added, lightheartedly, "But if you have one prepared, I'd love to hear it."

Cullen chuckled. "Another time perhaps."

Hirale's grin grew wider and more ridiculous. Cullen gazed at the elf for a few moments longer than he had intended to before clearing his throat and looking away.

"I… uh…" He stuttered on his words, but was saved by another scout jogging up toward him. "There's still a lot of work ahead."

"Commander." The scout said as he came up to them, holding out a clipboard to the Commander. "Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines."

Cullen smirked and motioned to the scout, "As I was saying…"

Hirale watched as the Commander and the scout walked off toward one of the tents, Cullen reading over the report as the scout briefly explained them. Hirale smiled, his face warm, ears wiggly and weird.

 _I guess… I should see Adan before I leave._ Hirale thought as he remembered the notes in his pocket. He darted off between the tents and across the way toward the Haven entrance. Hirale had run off so quickly that he hadn't noticed Cullen shooting him a fleeting glance before entering the training ground tent.

* * *

When they arrived in the Hinterlands, the air was blistering with howls and moans of battle. The air itself was chilly, but Hirale hardly noticed as they were immediately flung into battle once there.

Everything was chaos.

Mages were casting a slew of spells every which way while templars were swinging their swords around wildly, hoping to hit anything that got too close. Cassandra tried to reason with the templars, but they ignored her in their blind rage. Solas had even attempted to sooth the mages with his own diplomatic words, but it was just as effective.

Refugees were screaming and running around frantically to avoid the fray, but many found themselves trapped in the fighting. Luckily, Inquisition soldiers had made it to the Hinterlands before Hirale had and were an effective team on the battlefield.

The fight was over just as soon as it began.

Hirale swung his axe onto his back, securing it in its straps as Cassandra came up to him. She surveyed the scene as the soldiers dispersed, helping any of the wounded toward the medical tents. Solas had stepped away from them, offering his help to many of the fallen refugees as Varric snuffed out the flaming debris with a few of the scouts.

"I will speak to Corporal Vale of the condition of the refugees and see if there's anything we can do to help." Cassandra told Hirale. She nodded up toward the hill behind him. "You should speak with Mother Giselle."

"Right." Hirale replied and Cassandra took off with a few of the soldiers.

As Hirale came up the hill, he saw a woman dressed in modest Chantry robes, kneeling beside a wounded soldier. The robes were a mix of white and red with golden trim, and it covered her from head to toe, only allowing her face to be seen. Hirale had little knowledge of what Chantry attire looked like, but the color scheme was the same as Chancellor Roderick's and the priests back at Haven, which made picking her out of the crowd much easier.

"There are mages here who can treat your wounds." Her voice twirled with the same accent as Leliana's, though softer than the spymaster's. She spoke gently and patiently, reminding him of his Keeper. "Lie still."

The soldier refused to look her in the eye as he stubbornly snubbed the help of magic. He was tattered and bloody, his arm draped over a large gash on his stomach as he propped himself up on the medical bed. An older man stood behind her, dressed in light Circle robes and herbs in his hands.

"Don't touch me, Mother. Their magic is…" He choked out, succumbing to his wounds as the pain seared through his stomach. This did not deter the Mother's patience or her kindness.

"Turned to noble purpose." The Mother finished. The soldier looked at her, taken aback. "Their magic is surely no more evil than your blade."

Hirale thought of Aydienne again.

The soldier tried to choke out another refusal, but the Mother hushed him and insisted upon the mages' help. There were no more arguments as the man lay back on the bed and allowed the mage to heal him. The Mother stood up, looking over to Hirale as he approached.

"Mother Giselle, I presume?"

"I am." She replied, motioning away from the soldier and mage. "And you must be the one they're calling the Herald of Andraste."

"Not through any choice of mine, _trust me_." Hirale answered, following after her. "And it's _Hirale_." She chuckled lightly as they came up on the edge of the hill, overseeing the crossroads as the refugees began to calm, despite the chaos they had just survived.

"We seldom have any say in our fates." The Mother stated.

"So, do you agree with them?" Hirale asked, glancing over to the Mother curiously. She met his gaze and he nodded toward the people below them. "That I'm Andraste's Chosen One? Or a heretic pretending to be?"

"I don't presume to know the Maker's intentions for any of us." The Mother countered tactfully. "But I did not ask you to come here, simply to debate with me."

"Then _why_ am I here?"

"I know of the Chantry's denouncement of you and the Inquisition." The Mother turned to him, folding her hands in front of her as she stood up straight.

Her face was serious, but maintained a certain gentleness he hadn't seen in Cassandra or Leliana, and especially not Chancellor Roderick. His initial experience with Chantry folk hadn't been a particularly good one, but this was proving to be much more cordial.

"I know those that are behind it. Some of them, are hoping that grandstanding will provide them potential candidacy for Divine."

Hirale rolled his eyes. _Typical._

The Mother continued, "Most, however, are simply terrified."

"They should have seen the Breach up close." Hirale suggested. His eyes wandered up toward the sky as it stirred quietly, a mix of green and clouds. It still made him nervous. "I don't think they've see anything more terrifying than that."

"Fear makes us desperate." The Mother affirmed. "But hopefully, not beyond reason." Violet eyes watched her, uncertain. "You should go to them, convince them of your cause. Show them that you are nothing to be afraid of and give them something _else_ to believe."

"Pardon my rudeness, Mother Giselle, but I don't think they'll gladly listen to a Dalish elf posturing as Andraste's chosen one." Hirale retorted, practically laughing.

He hadn't wanted to be considered Andraste's chosen in the first place. All this Chantry nonsense was getting more obnoxious by the day, and Hirale's patience was already thin enough as it was.

If the Chantry was anything similar to a few of the humans in Haven, whispering behind his back, Hirale knew they wouldn't take kindly to his attempts at diplomacy.

"You'd be surprised."

 _Doubtful._

"They want to execute me and you think I should just walk up to them and _talk_?"

 _She must be mad._

"You are no longer alone." The Mother reminded him. Hirale looked toward the soldiers trudging around the crossroads. His gaze found Cassandra and Varric, reminding him of their help in all this. "They can neither imprison nor attack you."

Hirale's silence was enough of a response for the Mother.

Though she made a good point, the elf was not convinced.

"Let me put it this way, you don't need to convince _all_ of them, only _some_." The Mother sustained. "Their power comes from a _unified_ voice, if you divide them, then it'll give you the time you need to restore order."

Hirale smirked. "Divide and conquer."

"So to speak."

"You make it sound so easy." Hirale sighed with a frown.

"Honestly? I don't know if you have been touched by faith or if you were sent here to help us. But I have hope." Hirale looked at her again, surprised. The Mother was staring at him, eyes encompassing the optimism in her words. "Hope is something we need right now."

"Hope in _me_?"

"The people will listen to your rallying call as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force to deliver us or destroy us." She answered; her eyes bore into him as she studied him. She broke her gaze and nodded to herself, finally accepting an unasked request. "I will go to Haven to provide Sister Leliana the names of those who have denounced you. Then I will do whatever else I can to help the Inquisition as it grows."

While he didn't support much of Chantry help, Hirale wouldn't turn her away. The people of Haven needed some sort of faithful guidance, and they sure as hell weren't going to get that from their _Herald of Andraste_.

"Thank you, Mother Giselle." Hirale replied. "That would really help."

* * *

"Fenedhis!" Aydienne cursed.

She tossed her map to the ground and stared around at the trees crossly, having her fill of their breezy branches mocking her. Given that she had little experience in travelling on her own and rarely attended the hunts with Hirale, she was not the best at navigation.

Maps look so different compared to the _actual_ trails. Even with all the helpful notes the twins had on the map, everything looked the same to her. She couldn't decide if she had already walked through this throng of trees or if they were brand new.

"Redcliff should be close by. If I get there, maybe I can ask for directions to the temple ruins." Aydienne took a few steps forward, paused, then turned to her right, taking a few steps that way, before stopping again. "Ugh! But _where_?"

It had been a few days since she had left the clan in search of Hirale. So far, she made it into the wilderness of the Hinterlands. It had been a weird journey that took her on a more roundabout way to the Temple, putting her on the opposite side of Lake Calenhad. If she found her way to Redcliffe at least, she'd be able to get on track to Haven, which was closer to the ruins than her current location.

It was just a matter of _finding_ Redcliffe at this point.

Aydienne picked the map up again; studying it as if looking at it longer would miraculously make more sense.

It hadn't.

As the sun started to inch its way down the horizon, she decided to make camp rather than fight with the map. Searching for Redcliffe in the dark was not ideal and she would pick up again at first light.

She found a small grove tucked away near a quiet stream and began to fry up a few fish she had caught. Luckily, fish didn't require much hunting experience, just a net.

She placed a small, wooden carving of a wolf at the edge of her camp and hummed a small prayer to it. It began to glow with enchantment and a light, protective barrier swarmed around her camp. Her apprentice ring, engrained with the tale of the Dread Wolf's betrayal, glowed with the statue.

The enchantment would distract anyone from getting too close, deflecting their attentions elsewhere, while the ring allowed her to find her way back to the statue if she had left the barrier at any time.

It was an old trick that the Keeper once taught her.

Aydienne stared at the statue for a few moments, lost in her thoughts as waves of guilt rushed over her and her Keeper's face flickered in her memory. Then her thoughts shifted to Aris as she had left.

" _If you leave, Sael, we will not welcome you back."_

She shook it off and looked up to the sky.

The tear had clearly calmed down over the past few days. Fewer rifts appeared around the Hinterlands and it wasn't hurdling rocks all over the terrain anymore.

 _I wonder where Hirale is in all this mess._ She thought frowning. She had hoped to search the Temple of Sacred Ashes for answers, and if he weren't there, she would search the nearby towns for any sight of him.

 _For all I know, he could have gone back to the clan by now._

She didn't dare consider the more dreadful outcome.

A loud clatter interrupted her thoughts.

She heard shouting getting closer and the sound of clunky armor as footsteps rushed through the brush. Aydienne grabbed her staff and quickly darted out of her camp and toward the sound.

It had been a bit further than she expected, elven hearing often amplified everything to the point of absurdity.

When she came up on the sound, hiding up on a boulder behind the brush of trees, she saw three templars rounding on a strangely dressed man, sporting a waft of impeccably well done dark hair and a perfectly pruned mustache. He was clearly dressed for warmer weather, as his robes left much of his arms and chest exposed. What little robes he _had_ been wearing, were definitely a Tevinter design, easily clarified by the glitziness of the combined silks and metals.

"Don't come any closer, or you might get burned." He warned.

He held out his staff at the templars, who seemed mostly unafraid by a single mage's intimidations. A small flame twisted around into his palm to emphasize his threat.

The templars were clearly newer recruits that had simply gotten caught up in the fighting. They wore the standard armor of a templar, but didn't have a single scratch or singe mark on it from battle. Their faces, exposed because none of them wore a helmet, were young and chubby-cheeked, sweating with the worry that comes from fighting for the first time.

"Your threats don't scare us, _mage_!" A templar spat at him. Of the three, he looked a bit more controlled, less likely to burst from the seams with fear. But his sword hand still shook ever so slightly.

"I was just minding my business until you lot came along." The mage spoke again. He took a slow step backward, but the templars matched it. "I don't want any trouble."

"Your kind killed the Divine!"

Aydienne raised an eyebrow. Up until now, she had only been concerned about what had happened to Hirale. The death of the Chantry's leader was not something she had heard of nor considered.

The news sent a shot of terror through her chest.

 _If the Divine is dead… does that mean Hirale is…_

"Get him!" Another templar shouted.

They all charged the mage, swords pointed out and thrashing. The mage quickly set fire to one of the coattails of the templars, leaving him in a panic as he tried to snuff out the flames.

The other templar attempted another swing at him, but the mage sent another hiss of fire at them in hopes it would deter them. While the spell hadn't actually hurt them, the young templar doubled over, prepared to take the rush of pain. When it didn't effect him much, he stood back up, ready to fight again, feeling invincible.

Their armor could withstand the spells, making the charms less helpful. The armor itself would require endless punishment in order to be weakened enough to be taken down, but that was time the mage couldn't manage three-to-one.

This was something the templars were slowing realizing as they fought the mage.

 _At this rate, he'll exhaust all his mana trying to fend them off._ Aydienne thought, biting her lower lip as she eyed the armored men. Her body felt fidgety.

 _But such strong armor can be damaged if pit against something as hard as itself._

The mage quickly dodged a slash from one of the templars, and tried to regain his footing before they came swooping back. The man hadn't been quick enough as one of the swords slashed him along side his arm. He let out a pained yelp as blood poured out.

Aydienne hadn't realized she had already started running towards them. She jumped off the boulder, landing skillfully behind the templars, who spun around in surprise.

She brought her hands together, smashing the templars into one another in a crackle of electric energy. They fell to the ground in a paralyzed heap, while the third, having taken care of the flames, spun around and started swinging at Aydienne.

She quickly dodged and narrowed her eyes on him, sending a wave of telekinetic force bursting around her and knocking him into a nearby tree. He fell to the ground unconscious.

Aydienne eyeballed her handy work before turning toward the mage.

"Are you alright?" She asked as she extended a hand to him. He took it with his uninjured arm and pulled himself up, placing his free hand back over the wound to stop the bleeding. He looked at her in astonishment.

"Yes. Thank you." He answered in such a prim and proper accent, Aydienne knew he wasn't accustomed to slumming it in the forests. By the looks of his embellished robes, flawless skin, and perfectly groomed features, he was probably very wealthy. "You wouldn't happen to have bandages, would you?"

"I do." Aydienne replied; she glanced around to make sure no one else had seen the skirmish. None of the templars were conscious, so she wasn't concerned about them following them back to her camp. "This way."

* * *

Corporal Vale had told Cassandra that the templars and mages were hauled up in parts of the Hinterlands, making it unsafe for refugees to travel on the King's Road. The plan was to clear out the rogue templars and mages, then head out to make contact with a horse master to provide mounts for the Inquisition.

Fighting the Templars had been a real learning experience for Hirale.

On hunts, he rarely experienced actual combat and he hadn't anticipated how incredibly ill equipped he was in fighting a weapon-wielding enemy, that had trained all their lives to fight against magic. Granted, he _did_ have some knowledge of battle finesse, but was not nearly as proficient as his opponents were.

The Templar armor was heavy, finely crafted to withstand immense punishment that Hirale's battle-axe barely seemed to make dents into. By the time his enemies would fall, he had already expelled so much energy that he was barely able to maintain his momentum for the next foe.

Typical Dalish armor never needed to be so heavy because it was counterproductive for hunts to be weighed down by ones armor. On occasion, they did have heftier suits but rarely needed it in day-to-day training; even with the more recent spats with rogue templars or mages, Hirale hadn't been prepared for _this_.

If it hadn't been for Cassandra plowing through the templars, knocking them to the ground, and the swift arrows and spells conjured by Varric and Solas, Hirale surely would have been dead. Though, despite the wounds he suffered from, the biggest hit Hirale had taken was to his pride.

In his clan, he was _better_ than this.

Out here, he looked like a complete amateur.

"The refugees should be safer on the King's Road." Hirale stated, his breath thick with exhaustion and words spilling out in gasps. Pain shot through his side and his palm immediately pressed on it to stop as he breathed out a hiss. There was also a large gash on Hirale's leg that gushed blood sharply, stinging him when he shifted his weight to it.

"You're hurt. Let me tend to your wounds." Solas stated, rather than offered.

Hirale sat down on a nearby boulder and Solas knelt down beside him, his hands radiated healing magic on the leg wound. Sparks of silvery magic danced around the wound, sealing it up like stitches and zipping it closed so neatly that not even a scratch was left, only a tear in the leather remained.

"There, good as new."

 _He's obnoxious, but useful._ Hirale thought before promptly swallowing his pride uttering, "Ma serannas."

His side still hurt and he winced as he held his hand against it. It must have been a bruise because blood wasn't staining through as far as he could tell. It was tolerable, but would definitely slow him down.

"I can also take a look at your side." Solas offered. He gestured to the clasp of Hirale's armor and the warrior immediately tensed up. "If you remove your armor-"

" _No_." Hirale said firmly, standing up quickly despite the rush of soreness.

He would endure until they returned to camp. The Keeper had once shown him some basic healing herbs that could help, for those long hunts without any healers with them. He'd rather tend to it himself than let Solas see anything _else_ of him.

Solas didn't look offended and gave a polite nod as he stood up as well. "As you wish."

Hirale and Cassandra walked behind Solas and Varric, a bit slowed by Hirale's winded pace. Hirale cringed as the aching from his side leaked wider around his ribs and Cassandra pursed her lips at his stubbornness.

"You should let Solas look at it." Cassandra said as they strode forward. Hirale kept his eyes straight ahead, determined to get to the rebel mage hideout as soon as possible.

"It'll be fine." Hirale answered, eager to end the conversation. "We should get the mages cleared out quickly before we make camp for the night."

He pressed on further without another word.

Compared to the templars, the mages had been a completely different matter. While they were skilled in conjuring spells, Hirale and company easily picked apart those that were unfortunate enough to be fighting with a sword and not a staff. They would swing their swords erratically, hoping to hit a target but leaving themselves wide open for counterattacks, a mistake that Hirale easily took advantage of.

It wasn't until they were within the cave, Hirale spinning in a massive whirlwind that cut down anyone foolish enough to get too close, that his conviction was sucked away from him again. His spin slowed to a halt and he lifted his axe above his body, preparing to strike a final blow on his opponent; then he froze.

In front of him was a bloodied elven mage. She had dark hair framing her narrow cheeks; her face was freckled with blood and her eyes were wide and hysterical. She was whispering, something Hirale couldn't understand, but suddenly everything slowed around him and the world became muted.

He felt like he was sinking in quicksand and his entire body became slow and lazy. All his senses had gone numb and the only thing in focus was the elven woman's face, _Aydienne's_ face. His heart quickened and his voice turned frantic, his eyes were large with encumbering horror.

"Aydienne!" Hirale dropped his weapon behind him, the thick clunk echoing off the walls, and he fell to his knees. The elven woman stood up, rearing a twisted hand up into the air as it began to spark a flame through her fingertips. Her whispers seemed to grow louder around him, but Hirale still couldn't understand the chanting.

He couldn't move.

 _Aydienne, what are you doing?_

 _Stop._

Cassandra charged past him in a blur, running the mage through with her sword. Hirale felt everything immediately snap back to normal around him, his senses sharpened and the sound of everything returned in a vacuum.

Hirale stared as the elven mage flopped to the ground in a dead heap, his eyes searching for Aydienne's face again, but the illusion had vanished into the face of some strange woman. The dark hair was gone, stained to flowing red locks, and her eyes turned cold and lifeless. She didn't even have the same features as Aydienne, how could he have mistaken her?

"Are you alright, Herald?" Cassandra's voice sounded so distant even while she stood just a few feet near him.

 _Had it been a trick?_

"I'm alright." Hirale said slowly, thick eyebrows crumpled tightly as he regained composure. He stood up carefully, as if his limbs were foreign to him. "I thought she was… someone else-" Hirale shook his head, hoping to jumble everything back to normal, but he still felt off as he looked to Cassandra.

The concerned looks of his companions made his face flush with embarrassment. He waved his hand dismissively, picking up his axe and sliding it into its holster on his back.

"I'm fine." He assured. Hirale glanced around the cave quickly to make sure all the mages had been taken care of before he added, "Let's return to camp."

Hirale didn't say another word to any of them as they made their way back to camp. He was embarrassed and angry, feeling more alone with each step he took. His binder was soaked in sweat beneath his armor, making him even warmer than the others. The aching in his side had calmed to a dull lull, but he would still need to tend to it when they got back.

The sun began to set as they came up onto their campsite. A few soldiers stood watch around the perimeter and a few tents were set up, circling the fire in the middle of camp. As soon as they walked up, one of the requisition scouts came up on him, despite Hirale's attempt to sneak past her.

"Herald, I've word for you."

" _Hirale_ …" The elf corrected and sighed loudly, the frustration of the day weighing him down. "What is it?"

"Sister Leliana wanted you to have this." The scout pulled out a simple envelope with the same aravel rope like the one Josephine had given to him a few days ago in Haven. "There was also a small box sent with it with a few things for you. It's from-"

"My clan!" Hirale exclaimed eagerly as he snatched the letter away. After fighting all those mages and templars and feeling a bit mediocre in his fighting skills, Hirale was desperate for _some_ good news from home.

He quickly muttered his thanks to the scout and tore open the letter, his eyes hastily devouring the words on the page. The scout took the box of flasks toward Hirale's tent without another word.

 _Da'len,_

 _An'daran Atish'an. It does my heart well to hear that you are safe. Our clan was visited by members of the Inquisition who spoke persuasively of the good work you are doing, as well as the fairness with which our kind have been treated by the Inquisition itself._

 _However, I assume from the letter they delivered to us that you haven't come into contact with Aydienne. I regret to inform you that after hearing of the news of the Conclave, she left her position as my apprentice and went to find you. I do hope that by the time you receive this letter she is with you, safe and sound. I pray the Dread Wolf does not catch her scent._

 _You know that Clan Lavellan has little by way of gold, but I gave the messengers some of our healing herbs, as Sylaise blessed us with abundance in our recent foraging. I've also enclosed a few more vials of your medicine, though without Aydienne I don't have much on hand._

 _We would be a distraction if we came to the Inquisition itself, our hunters arguing with the humans as they so easily do – hopefully you are being more tactful in your debates, da'len. Nevertheless, if you need aid, send word, and we are with you._

 _Tuelanen ama na,_

 _Keeper Istimaethoriel Lavellan._

Hirale stared at the letter a bit too long.

His eyes raced over and over the sentences, hoping that by sheer willpower his gaze could change the words and Aydienne would be safe back with the clan. His mind was racing, dreaming up terrible possibilities of her whereabouts.

 _We should have made contact by now…_

 _Where could she-?_

"Something wrong?" Cassandra asked, snapping Hirale back to reality.

Hirale hadn't realized he had been holding his breath. His head was spinning and he couldn't stop thinking about Aydienne. His side pulsed annoyingly, reminding him to tend to it as soon as possible. What little patience Hirale had left, dissipated as soon as he looked at her.

His eyes narrowed, letter clenched in his fist.

"Nothing you need to worry about, _human_." Hirale snapped, storming off to his tent, leaving his companions frowning and exchanging peculiar looks, though none of them attempted to pursue him.

"Touchy." Varric mumbled and Cassandra groaned.

* * *

Once back, Aydienne searched her pack for the bandages as the man sat down near the fire. She pulled out a few dressings and some herbs before she walked over to him. Sitting next to him, she placed a small leaf over his wound.

He immediately recoiled from the sting.

"Hold still." Aydienne said as she pulled him back to her, placing the leaf back with her palm over it. "It always stings at first."

Just as she said it, the burn faded into minty, healing scent that seemed to numb the pain around the wound. She left it on his wound as she began to uncoil the bandages.

"Thank you, for your help." The man said finally as she pulled the leaf off his arm and began to wrap the dressings his arm, pressing tightly to stop any more bleeding. A lofty chuckle escaped his lips. "Those templars caught me off guard."

"You're welcome." Aydienne replied as she smiled at him. "Three against one isn't exactly fair."

They sat in silence as she finished up his bindings. He watched her carefully, but she didn't look up from her work until she was done. Once finished, she sat up straight and looked at her work, satisfied.

"There." Aydienne looked at him with bright, glimmering eyes. "I may not be a healer, but I can dress a mean wrap!"

"Thank you." The man replied, eyeing her handy work thankfully. He cleared his throat. "I should be on my way."

"Don't be silly." Aydienne waved a hand. "It's getting dark. You can stay here." The man looked at her peculiarly, as if she was a madwoman, but she just shrugged. "Safety in numbers?"

"You've got a point." He agreed.

She beamed at him and extended her hand. "My name is Aydienne."

"Pleased to meet you." They shook hands. "My name is Dorian Pavus."

"You're a long way from Tevinter." Aydienne blurted. Dorian raised a questioning eyebrow and she quickly added, "Your robes look Tevinter, so I assumed."

"Indeed. I came here, following a Magister who has something sinister up his sleeve." Dorian responded with some added dramatic flare to his tone and gesturing theatrically.

"That sounds about right." Aydienne said with a laugh. She handed a leafy bowl to him with some of the fish inside, a few raw vegetables lining around the meat. "Are you a Magister too?"

Dorian gave an exasperated sigh. " _No_. Not everyone from Tevinter is part of the Magisterium."

"Pardon me, I didn't mean to offend you." Aydienne replied, frowning at her unintentional faux pas. "There are so few books about Tevinter outside the Imperium itself, so I don't know much about it."

Dorian gave her a surprised look, before frowning at his own rudeness. She _did_ , after all, just save him and treated his wound.

"I apologize. Slumming it in the cold wilderness has made me a bit barbaric, I'm afraid." Dorian replied. "Speaking with southerners about my homeland always makes me so frustrated. It seems they get so few answers from their own literature that they come up with ridiculous stories! Propaganda, all of it!"

"So, I take it there aren't flying, winged cows over Minrathous?"

Dorian laughed. "That one is actually true… but the cows didn't have wings."

"Perish the thought!"

"It's just so odd that in the South, they use 'Magister' like it applies to _every_ Tevinter mage." Dorian continued. "A Magister is a title granted to those who have a seat in the Magisterium, the highest branch of our senate. Those seats are split among the Circles of Magi, the Chantry, and high ranking families."

"So, mages _don't_ rule exactly?"

"Technically, there can be non-mages in those seats, but currently all those seats are taken by mages." Dorian answered, his eyebrows furrowed as he mentally recalled all those with seats in the Magisterium.

"And what does that make you, then?"

"I'm an Altus." Dorian said with a proud smirk and twiddle of his mustache. "Which is almost as good as a Magister, depending on who you ask."

Dorian devoured the bowl of food in his hand. He was clearly very hungry. He wasn't accustomed to camping and probably hadn't eaten anything really sustainable for a while. Aydienne happily refilled his bowl.

"I've never heard of an… Altus." Aydienne replied slowly, fascinated. "What is it exactly?"

"Upper class." Dorian explained. "They're families that can trace descent from the original Dreamers; the first prophets of the old gods. If you're a mage and you're not Altus, then you're considered lower class, or Laetan. If you're not a mage at all, then you're called Soporati, which means 'everyone else.'"

"Those are a lot of fancy words." Aydienne observed and Dorian chortled.

"We're Tevinter, we do love to sparkle." Dorian ate a few more mouthfuls before asking, "So, I take it you're Dalish?" He had been eyeballing her for quite some time, examining the vallaslin on her face and the peculiar, woodsy garb she dressed in. Aydienne looked at him, curiously. "Was that too forward? Or is that the correct word?"

Aydienne grinned. "Yes, I am Dalish. The face tattoos usually give that away."

"We don't have Dalish clans coming northward… for _obvious_ reasons." Dorian's words trailed off, somewhat embarrassedly.

While little was known in the South about Tevinter politics and culture, one thing that everyone knew was that Tevinter was the hub of the slave trade. After the fall of Arlathan, the Tevinter Imperium enslaved the elves and still to this day, looks down upon them as less than people.

Granted, the prejudice towards elves remained all throughout Thedas, but slavery was either outlawed or developed a negative stigma in the South. It was easier to refer to ones elven slaves as servants rather than be looked upon as badly as Tevinter was.

"So, I've never met one of your people before… though I've heard of them. Just a little though." He looked at her cautiously. "I hope this won't be an issue between us."

"Because you're from Tevinter?" Aydienne raised her brow. She hadn't considered their differences as something that would be an issue. If anything, she was excited to meet someone from so far away to discuss his culture.

Books could only get her so far.

"Well, thus far you haven't been as insufferable as southern literature paints you to be." Aydienne shot him a playful grin as she shrugged. "But time will tell."

"Indeed." Dorian chuckled. "I _do_ know that the Dalish stay in their clans and rarely wander alone." His eyes turned suspicious and he pursed his lips slightly. "So why are you all by yourself out here? Or is there a Dalish camp ready to ambush me at a moment's notice?"

Dorian feigned fear as he brought his hands up over his face, pretending to cower at the thought of an elven ambush.

"Oh darn! You caught me! Elven plans foiled again by Tevinter!" Aydienne laughed as she balled her fists to the sky in pretend defeat. Dorian smiled, relieved. "Actually, we had sent a hunter of ours to the Divine Conclave, but after the explosion, we hadn't heard from him and I'm out here trying to find him."

"Wouldn't they send more than just a single elf?" Dorian asked, but then quickly added, "Not that you don't seem perfectly capable all by yourself."

"They _had_ , but this hunter is my best friend. I can't just sit by and wait for them to tell me if he's dead or alive. I left my clan to find him." Aydienne felt a pang run through her chest as the words came out.

Parts of her wondered if she really left to solely find Hirale or if she was using her outrage at her Keeper to justify her leaving the clan finally. She knew the clan would see it as the latter. And though she had every intention of finding Hirale safe and sound, it would be a lie to say she wasn't excited to be out on this adventure at all.

"I see, and how is that going?"

"Well, I got sidetracked by this devilishly charming Tevinter in distress." Aydienne answered flirtatiously, earning a grin from the other mage.

"Sounds like an _excellent_ distraction!"

* * *

" _How was showing the new apprentice around?" Lemhel asked, smiling at Hirale as he approached the twins' aravel. Hirale couldn't contain the disgusted noise that poured from his mouth._

 _By the end of the day, Hirale had finally slipped away from showing Aydienne around the camp. The tour couldn't have gone any slower for him. Listening to Aydienne's lectures on the different tomes she's read or different theories she had about Elvhen culture grated on Hirale's nerves._

 _He was thankful to finally be rid of her for the rest of the day._

" _Awful." He said, grimacing as his frustration burst around him. He flung his arms up into the air, emphasizing his irritation. "She's a pompous, know-it-all, little brat! She has an opinion on everything because she's read everything!" Hirale made a face, bringing his voice to a higher pitch as he sloppily mimicked Aydienne. "'Oh, isn't it grand how smart I am and how much I've read. Oh, you haven't read it? Pity.'"_

" _Sounds like another Thelnarel." Lemhon said with a snicker. Lemhel shook her head as she grabbed a handful of arrows and slipped them into their quiver._

" _But worse." Hirale insisted, unaware at the increasing volume in his tone. "At least he respects our traditions. She questions everything around her!" His arms flung up again in the air, drawing a few glances from other elves across the campsite, but none looked on for long. "I'm sure if I had told her the sky has always been blue, she'd theorize that it may have once been green."_

" _Aw, I think you may love her." Lemhon joked, nudging his shoulder. He pushed her back, eyebrows irately furrowed._

" _Hardly." He spat. "Everything she said started with 'oh, I've read this' or 'I read once that,' blah blah blah… No one cares!" Hirale hadn't noticed Lemhel's eyes trace behind him nor the deep frown across her face as he continued to complain. "No wonder her clan wanted to get rid of her. She's so obnoxious."_

" _Um…" Lemhel managed, trying to point behind him, but Hirale still hadn't seen._

 _He continued fumingly. "I bet you she won't last long here either. She's not one of us."_

 _Lemhel cleared her throat and nodded behind him. He gave her a look and then turned to follow her gaze only to find Aydienne standing a few feet away. She pursed her lips, but didn't say a word, as she turned away quickly and headed away from them._

" _Whoops." Lemhon added. Her sister smacked both her and Hirale on the necks, scowling at them as they turned back to her, offended._

" _Not exactly a warm welcome, is it?" Lemhel chided._

" _Who cares? She'll get thicker skin." Lemhon barked. "She'll have to."_

" _That's not the point, sister." Lemhel argued. "She's supposed to be one of our apprentices, she may even replace Thelnarel as first one day and may become Keeper."_

" _Not with that shit flying around her head."_

" _You never know."_

" _Oh, I think I know-"_

 _The twins continued to argue as Hirale's gaze trailed off after the apprentice. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings even if she was completely annoying. Hirale was an expert at putting his foot in his mouth when he was frustrated._

 _He considered going after her, but she was already gone and he doubted she wanted to hear anything else from him, least of all an apology._

 _If anything, he was sure the Keeper would confront him about it later._

 _Lemhon turned to Hirale, bringing both palms to his shoulders. Violet eyes jumped back to the hunter as she grinned at him._

" _But it sounds like you could use something to take your mind off that nonsense. What say you join us for a little adventure?" She offered, her hands falling to her side as she motioned toward the tree line. "Lemhel and I were going to scope out the eastern part of the forest, if you'd like to come with us."_

" _Nah," Hirale sighed. "I think I just need some time alone."_

 _Lemhon shrugged and placed her daggers into their slots on her belt. "Suit yourself."_

 _Hirale waited for the twins to be out of sight before he ran off toward a different part of the woods. A while back, Hirale had found a small, hidden grove with a waterfall all its own. He hadn't told anyone where it was, as it was the only place he could escape to for some privacy. Places like this weren't easy to come by for Hirale, and he was thankful their Keeper decided to keep the clan in one spot for so long that he could enjoy it before they left._

 _He stripped down, casting his armor and underthings to the side. Hirale undid his binder, imprisoned breasts finally freed, and dipped himself into the cool water before he felt too discomforted by seeing his body again._

 _Hirale had always known he was supposed to be male. The body came out wrong, but the support of his Keeper made it easier to at least pass for male and coming to Clan Lavellan at such a young age gave him the opportunity to start from scratch._

 _His original clan had been all but slaughtered by werewolves during the Fifth Blight. He remembered seeing the Hero of Ferelden passing through and saving them from the curse. Unfortunately, his mother had already been turned into one of the beasts, leaving his father in shambles over her death._

 _When his father could no longer take care of himself, let alone Hirale, over his grief, Keeper Deshanna offered to take the lad in as a favor to his deceased mother, a long time childhood friend of hers._

 _Before they came back to the clan, Hirale asked the Keeper to help him start over as himself rather than herself and the Keeper obliged. She was the only one who knew, however. He sometimes considered telling the twins, but it was still such a big step that he would back out at the last minute every time._

 _It was lonesome, not being able to talk to anyone about it._

 _Always feeling like he was hiding, but fearing the truth would leave him more alone than before._

 _Hirale stood up underneath the waterfall, letting the water pour down him and wash away everything. He finally stepped out of the waterfall, heading back to his things in search of a towel to dry off with._

 _He heard a gasp and his entire body went cold as he turned to see where it came from. At the entrance of the grove, Aydienne was standing there, book cradled in her arm while her free hand was clasped over her mouth._

 _They stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. The sound of the waterfall had faded into a ringing in his ears and his heart pounded against his ribcage. Hirale was a loss for words and Aydienne slowly moving backwards and away._

" _I-I'm sorry." Before Hirale could manage any words, she booked it out of there and was gone._

" _Oh shit."_

* * *

Hirale woke up to the sunlight beating against the tent bathing him in khaki light. Around him, he could hear the morning chirping of birds and the quiet rustling around the camp. Somewhere nearby he could hear Cassandra practicing, grunting and the sharp hiss of her sword through the wind followed by a thick thump.

Hirale laid there for a while, just listening. The gravity of everything weighed him down into the covers that he barely was able to will himself back to his feet. With a good night's rest, he was able to recharge his expelled energy from the previous day. He acted like an ass to his companions, and he was not looking forward to facing them and apologizing.

He always found it difficult to apologize, but often found himself needing to do so. Hirale was the master of putting his foot in mouth and his emotions always got the better of him.

Without the support of his clan, and especially Aydienne, nearby, he found himself an emotional roller coaster. It didn't help that his medication often amplified his aggression either and the stress of it running low making him frazzled.

 _But those are just excuses._

He quickly redressed his bindings, wincing as the soreness reminded him of the previous days' discomfiting debacle. He had managed to heal the wound on his side enough that it was only a bruise at this point, but he'd still be sore for a while.

When Hirale finally left his tent, he saw Varric sitting near the fire pit, quietly jotting down notes into a small parchment paper and occasionally taking a bite of an apple he held with his freehand. The elf walked over to him, violet eyes pushing past the dwarf to eye the Seeker as she parried and thrust her sword into an unfortunate, stuffed dummy.

"Feeling better?" Varric offered. Hirale scratched the back of his head awkwardly and nodded. The dwarf smiled and placed his paper into his pocket. "Good."

"Look, I wanted to apologize."

"No need." Varric said with a shrug. "Yesterday was a trying day and I doubt you've had much experience fighting templars or mages before." The dwarf turned to Hirale with a huge grin. "I remember the first time Daisy had actually fought bandits with Hawke and I. Hawke was trying to be sneaky to avoid a fight, but Daisy blurted to the bandits that Hawke was lying and they attacked us." Varric laughed. "Hawke was so mad, but she couldn't stay mad at Daisy. And she got the hang of it _eventually_."

"Daisy?"

"A Dalish girl I know." Varric answered. Hirale's ears twitched in interest. "She left her clan to help Hawke. She's a quirky girl, a little scattered, but the sweetest person alive."

Hirale's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "She left her clan?"

"More like her clan… _insisted_."

Hirale frowned. _Seems our people have a habit of discarding our own._

There was a shout from Cassandra as she hurled her sword around her head, swinging into the training dummy. Hirale watched her as she reset her footing, preparing for another attack, swinging, and then reset herself in a different position.

Cassandra was, without a doubt, skillful on the battlefield. Her rigorous training as a Seeker showed in every swing she took and her discipline was etched into every step.

It was very impressive.

If it hadn't been for her, Hirale would have surely died a thousand times over. The thought itself made him feel like a complete ass.

"She's really good." Hirale murmured, staring in awe at her skill.

"She'd probably be willing to teach you a few things." Varric suggested. He gave Hirale a sly grin. "If you ask _nicely_."

Hirale laughed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the dwarf with a raised eyebrow. " _Nice_ doesn't really seem her type."

"It's not." Varric deadpanned, then shrugged. "But you seem charming enough, just turn that on for a few humans and they'll eat it up."

Hirale snorted. "Is that your professional opinion?"

"Just some friendly advice from someone who knows people being in the limelight."

"Like Hawke?"

Hirale remembered hearing Aydienne gush about the book Varric had written about Hawke. It was the first book that he'd written that was nonfiction and it described the events leading up to the mage rebellion.

Of course Aydienne read it.

"Yeah, and lucky for _her_ , she's charming." Varric replied. "It made a lot of her more controversial opinions less upsetting for people."

Amelia Hawke had been known as a deadly enigmatic woman. Not only was she well equipped to handle a magical staff, but she also had a silver tongue that made her a delightful terror among the nobility.

Not that she cared much for nobility in the first place. She had built her life from the ground up in Kirkwall, but still managed to frequent the dirtiest bar in Lowtown. And the company she kept was clearly not of nobility.

But that didn't matter to Hawke.

What _did_ matter to her was doing what was right rather than doing things for show. When the templars were becoming stricter, she offered aid to any mages in need of her despite any drastic steps they took. She was also very outspoken about mage rights, to the point of radicalism. This placed a very large target on her back, but after defeating the Arishok, very few attempted to take a shot at her.

Hirale doubted he could ever be _that_ intimidating.

"Politics." Hirale sighed as his arms fell to his sides and he started toward Cassandra. "I'll try it." Hirale shot a look back at Varric, pointing his finger accusingly. "But if she swings that sword at me, I'm blaming _you_!"

Hirale had never been charming per say. Aydienne always had a way with words that made her so much more apt at this type of thing. Hirale could, on occasion, charm his way into the tents of a few hunters or into the more favorable picks for hunting grounds, but charming a hunter never seemed quite a difficult feat; especially since he _was_ one.

But applying that so-called skill outside of his clan seemed a bit more intimidating; especially with Cassandra at the business end of his attempts.

"You're quite the force of nature." Hirale said, earning a frown from Cassandra. She didn't respond and continued to pelt the dummy. "It's impressive."

"You flatter me."

"I'm _trying_ to." Hirale admitted. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments as Cassandra swung her sword in various ways. This was harder than he thought. Cassandra was clearly not one for charm, least of all Hirale's weak attempt at it, so perhaps directness worked better for her.

He took a deep breath. "Would you be able to give me a few pointers?"

Cassandra stopped, staring at him incredulously.

"You're asking _me_ for pointers?" She asked teasingly, smirking at him. "I thought the Dalish above _human_ help."

"Well, after the fight yesterday, I have humbled." Hirale thought back to the fights with the templars and mages. His side was still stiff and he thought of the gash left on his leg before Solas had healed it. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I am stressed and out of my element here." He sighed before adding unenthusiastically, "It's not easy to ask for help, Seeker. Please don't make this harder."

Cassandra studied him for a moment and then nodded over to the weapons chest nearby. Hirale's eyes lit up and he quickly grabbed a large sword, a big two-hander as he preferred.

* * *

The next morning, Aydienne and Dorian approached the crossroads nearly an hour after the sun had risen. Dorian had agreed to help Aydienne find her way to Redcliffe so she could head towards the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Both of them were headed that way anyway so it only made sense for them to continue together; and Dorian was terrible at camping, so having a Dalish to help him made the trip all the more easy for him.

"I am the scion of House Pavus. A product of generations of careful breeding, and the repository of its hopes and dreams." Dorian's eyes glazed over, listless and full of wonder. Aydienne could have sworn they were twinkling. His expression fell dramatically. "Of course I despised it all. The lies, the scheming, the illusions of supremacy."

He waved a hand flippantly.

"That's Tevinter in a nutshell, isn't it?" Aydienne asked with a giggle, Dorian couldn't help but laugh with her.

"Indeed." He agreed, "Needless to say, they opposed my choices."

"And so they kicked you out of Tevinter?" Aydienne exclaimed disbelievingly. She frowned, her eyes glancing around at the refugees huddling around one another for warmth. "Seems a bit harsh," she added absentmindedly.

Granted, _her_ original clan was willing to kick her out and leave her to fend for herself so she wasn't really one to talk about the austerity of family life or culture.

"Not exactly, though I'm sure if they had the chance they would have. I rejected their idyllic plan." Dorian answered vaguely. "If they had their way, I'd be married to some unlucky girl, from a powerful family. We'd live in luxurious despair, despising one another as I waited to take my father's place in the Magisterium."

Aydienne was sure there was more to the story than that, but she respected Dorian's choice not to tell her completely.

They had _just_ met after all.

She simply said, "And you declined."

"Yes. So it's best I'm far from home." Dorian replied. He smiled lightly, but it was forced. "Less of an embarrassment, you see."

"I know what you mean." Aydienne agreed.

Aydienne hadn't felt so comfortable since she had travelled with Felassan from her old clan to Clan Lavellan. There was always a silent scrutiny from her clan that she pretended not to notice from the day to day. In her clan, she was expected to be a certain way and her path was predetermined.

Out _here_ , there were so many possibilities that it made her stomach flutter and her heart race.

There were soldiers of some Chantry faction trudging around the crossroads, patrolling for any rogue templars or mages. This area had clearly been hit hard by the fighting, but it seemed it had been taken care of recently.

The refugees scrambled for what little food and shelter they could while a few uniformed scouts were trying to help them as best they could.

"So many people." Aydienne murmured as she frowned. "I wonder why the templars and mages decided to come here, of all places."

"Given Redcliffe's history with magic, it seems almost fitting." Dorian added.

There was a raggedy elven man standing nearby an old hut. He was old and weary, though that may have been from all the excitement of the templars and mages fighting right at his doorstep. There was a congested cough gasping violently from within the shack behind him, barely drowning out his desperate calls for help.

The man's eyes met Aydienne's. "You there, can you help my wife? I beg you."

Aydienne walked over to him, followed closely by a reluctant Dorian. She asked, "What's wrong with your wife?"

"She gets sick when the weather's foul."

"When is the weather not foul in the south?" Dorian muttered as he rubbed his arms vigorously to return heat to his skin.

"She can't catch her breath, like cobwebs in her lungs. Our son, Hyndel, makes a potion that helps her breath." The raggedy man explained. "Please, get to him and tell him what's happened." His face turned grave as he grasped at Aydienne's hands, cupping them frantically in his as he looked at her pleadingly. "Without that potion, she'll die!"

"Where is your son?"

"He took off into the hills. That way." The man's hands released hers and he pointed off into the hills, the opposite way from Redcliffe. "He said he was joining a group trying to appease the rifts."

While she hadn't seen one up close yet, Aydienne doubted the rifts were capable of appeasement in any fashion. From the murmurs and whispers amongst the refugees, the rifts only seemed to spout out more vengeful demons hell bent on destroying everything in their way.

Worshipping the rifts sounded about as effective as offering a high dragon flowers in hopes it wouldn't devour you whole.

But people do unusual things in desperate times.

The coughing got worse inside the man's home.

Aydienne looked at the man sympathetically. "I'll try."

"Thank you." The man said and quickly rushed off into the hut to help his wife, though the coughing didn't appear to get better.

" _Appease_ the rifts?" Dorian asked skeptically as they walked past the merchant cart. "Sounds like a cult."

"My thoughts exactly." Aydienne said, stepping off the main pathway that would lead them to Redcliffe in lieu of the hills the man had pointed to.

"Don't you want to head to Redcliffe as soon as possible?" Dorian asked with a raised eyebrow and curiously puckered lips.

"Of course, I do." Aydienne answered, turning to him. "But I can't ignore someone in need of help." Dorian studied her carefully before his eyes wandered over the trail toward Redcliffe. Aydienne frowned. "You don't have to come with me if you need to get to Redcliffe, Dorian."

He looked at her for quite some time before finally replying, "Redcliffe's not going anywhere."

Aydienne beamed at him and the two of them walked down the dirt path and toward the hills of the Hinterlands.

* * *

"Does it trouble you?" Cassandra asked as she and Hirale sat together on a bench beside one of the tents. She drank from a round satchel filled with water, glancing at him sideways.

It was nearly noon when they had finished practicing and they would be leaving shortly to meet with the horse master Corporal Vale mentioned.

"Not anymore, really." Hirale responded, looking over the mark. It rarely flickered and the pain was just about as tender as a faded bruise. "It doesn't hurt anymore, so that's a good sign, right?" Hirale frowned. "I just wish I knew what it was and how I got it."

"We will find out." Cassandra answered sternly, handing him the pouch of water. Hirale looked up at her. Her stone features riddled with determination that put him at ease. He took the pouch and drank from it. "The important part now is that your mark is stable and so far, so is the Breach."

Hirale looked up at the sky.

The Breach still churned quietly and stained the sky green, but it was far less belligerent now that the main rift had been closed beneath it. Though, it _was_ still there which made Hirale unnerved.

 _What if I can't close it?_

 _What if I'm not good enough to do this?_

 _Aydienne would have been better at this…_

"It occurs to me I don't know much about you." Hirale looked back to Cassandra, surprised she wanted to know _anything_ about him at all, but Hirale knew better than to reject her attempts. Cassandra didn't seem to warm up to many people, so this was pretty groundbreaking.

"What did you want to know?"

"I'm not sure." Cassandra said. "Where are you from?"

"My clan typically stays in the forests of the Free Marches. We wander a lot, but mainly stick to forests."

"Do you consider the Free Marches your home, then?" Cassandra asked, as she toweled off the sweat from her brow. "Are you eager to go back?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't." Hirale replied honestly. Cassandra looked like she disapproved, but she didn't argue on it. "But, I haven't been away from my clan for longer than a few hunts, even then I was still nearby them.

This world is different and uncomfortable for me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells here." The disapproval seemed to leave Cassandra's face and Hirale relaxed. "Though, I am grateful for the people I have met and the chance to do something right, even if I do seem grumpy doing so."

"Immensely grumpy." Cassandra deadpanned. Her voice was still stern, but Hirale chuckled. He couldn't tell if she was being intentionally funny or if it was just a fluke. "Well, it won't be the same here when you leave."

"Are you saying you'd miss me?" Hirale grinned and Cassandra pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowing on her face.

"No."

Hirale's grin didn't leave and he took a swig of water before asking, "What about you?"

"What _about_ me?"

"Where are you from?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Well, it occurs to me that _I_ don't know much about _you_ either."

"Why would you?" Cassandra eyed him suspiciously. It had been a while since Hirale had been on the business end of _that_ look, so it took him by surprise.

"I'm hoping that getting to know one another may make us a little bit less…"

 _What's the word?_

"Antagonistic?" She finished and Hirale laughed.

"Yes, _that_."

"Fine." Cassandra sighed and Hirale beamed, excitedly. "My name is Cassandra Pentaghast, daughter of the Royal House of Navarra, seventy-eighth in line for the Navarran throne."

"You're _royalty_?"

"Hardly." Cassandra grumbled. "I joined the Seekers of Truth as a young woman, and I was with the Order until they withdrew from the Chantry. I remained as the Divine's Right Hand, carrying out her order to form the Inquisition."

"And here we are." Hirale motioned around them to the camp and the Inquisition soldiers clamoring around. He stared at Cassandra, his cheek resting in his palm. "I'm still wrapping my head around you being royalty, though."

"The Pentaghasts are a very large clan. Half of Cumberland could say the same."

"Really?" Hirale asked.

"No, but it feels that way." Cassandra chuckled. "I have hundreds of relatives so distant, they need charts to prove we're related at all."

"Do they actually carry them around?" Hirale was only half-joking.

"Oh yes." Cassandra answered immediately, her nose crinkled in distain. "The Pentaghasts value their precious blood line like it runs with gold."

"And you joined the Seekers to get away from all that?"

"It was a life worth getting away from." Cassandra resided sternly. "The Pentaghasts are famed for dragon hunting, but few actually still pursue the craft."

Hirale pictured Cassandra battling a dragon all on her own, sword held high and shield at the ready. She was like a character straight out of one of Aydienne's adventure books.

"Most are fat and lazy. They pay lip service to the Maker and care only for idle pleasures and past glories." Cassandra added bitterly, but her expression changed to something more morose. "My brother was the only thing that kept me in Navarra. Once he was gone, so was I."

Hirale thought of Aydienne.

It was no secret Aydienne wanted to leave their clan, but she never did. Hirale often thought it was in part because leaving the clan meant leaving _him_ , and the two of them were practically inseparable.

Hirale believed, at this point, the only thing keeping Aydienne with their clan was _himself_.

"What happened to him?"

"I'd… prefer not to speak of Anthony." Cassandra's voice fell soft and Hirale looked at her apologetically. She shook her head and added, "Another time perhaps. And what of you? Do you have a brother or sister?"

Hirale barely thought of his family before Clan Lavellan. It had only been him and his parents, but he had been a solitary child there because of his dysphoria. When he came to Clan Lavellan, it was as though he was given a brand new family.

"Aydienne…" Hirale replied finally, realizing he'd been quiet for a couple minutes. "She's my best friend, almost like a sister, really."

"That was the name you called out when we were fighting the mages." Cassandra observed. Hirale had nearly forgotten that everyone else had heard him calling her name in the cave, or perhaps he had _hoped_ no one remembered.

 _I'm not that lucky._

"Yes." Hirale replied.

Hirale hadn't spoken much about anyone from his clan, let alone Aydienne, to anyone in the Inquisition. Whenever he spoke of home with Josephine, it was mainly about the cultural differences or the various places he'd seen with his clan. He thought talking too much about Aydienne or the twins would make him more homesick than he already was.

 _I doubt that's even possible now._

He looked at Cassandra, who was waiting patiently for him to elaborate, before he sighed.

 _What could it hurt?_

"It's just-" He could see himself back in that cave, the world around him numbed to a dull quiet as he looked at what he thought was a battered Aydienne. He frowned. "When we were fighting the mages, I thought I saw her on the ground, covered in blood." There was a lump in his throat. "I couldn't move because I thought it was _her_. And when she moved to blast with me fire, I couldn't call out to her, but I kept thinking 'Aydienne, stop.'"

He could still see Aydienne's face as the mage rose to attack him. Her face contorted into something vicious and foreign, but still her face. Her body didn't move the same as Aydienne's when she would cast spells, however. Whenever Aydienne cast spells she put he entire self into it, her confidence and courage engulfed her aura. When that mage's hand caught fire, she was cruel and scared.

 _I should have known._

"It was a spell of the mage." Cassandra stated. Hirale glanced to the Seeker. "It's a trick Navarran necromancers use called 'Horror.' It brings the illusion of something you fear around you, making it easy for anyone to kill you."

Hirale snorted. "Yeah, well it's a bitch."

"Indeed." Cassandra chuckled, earning a huge grin from Hirale, thoroughly pleased with himself for making her laugh again. Cassandra pursed her lips, a few quiet minutes passing before she finally exhaled. "So you saw your friend injured?"

Hirale nodded. "She's our Keeper's first." Cassandra looked lost so Hirale continued, "She's a _mage_. First in line to become the next Keeper of our clan." Cassandra nodded affirmatively. "I've never been afraid of Aydienne's abilities though. She's incredibly talented with magic and _so_ smart, but I know she would never hurt me."

He remembered the way the mage looked, pretending to be Aydienne, with blood all over her and her panicked spell casting pouring from her lips. Even then he hadn't been afraid of, what he thought was, Aydienne's magic; even when it was about to blast him in the face.

"I was more scared of her on the ground, hurt." Hirale concluded.

"It sounds like you care about her a great deal."

"I do." He admitted. "She's been my rock through the toughest times. It makes it more difficult to be out here without her. I feel so alone sometimes."

"We did not get off to a great start." Cassandra admitted. "But, if you need anything, I am here for you. Though I can't offer you the same comfort of a long time friend, just know you are not in this alone."

"Thank you." Hirale meant it. He was grateful they were becoming more cordial. Someday, maybe, they could be friends. "It's not just that. The letter I got yesterday from my clan said she left to find me." The corners of Hirale's lips tugged at a frown and his eyes felt blistered, like they would burst with tears. He refused to cry. "She should have come into contact with us by now, right?"

"You're afraid something has happened to her?"

"Well, with all the fighting everywhere and the panic, I'm scared she may have gotten swept up in it." Hirale gulped. "Or worse."

"You don't think her capable of taking care of herself?"

"No, it's not that. She's more than capable." Hirale replied quickly. "She's just more… friendly than she should be at times. She's very rarely suspicious of people and I'm afraid the wrong people will take advantage of her kindness."

Cassandra chortled. "She sounds so different from you."

"She is." Hirale agreed, smiling. "It's amazing we're even this close." The laughter faded into a sulk. "Still…"

"I shall inform Leliana to send scouts to find her." Cassandra stated.

She called out to the requisition scout, barking a quick order to find an elf by Hirale's description of Aydienne. Once they had all the details, the scout took off to deliver the message to the spymaster immediately.

"Thank you, for that."

"You're welcome." Cassandra said carefully, as though polite acts were foreign to her. "May the Maker watch over her."

For the first time, Hirale wasn't unnerved by the sentiment. He was grateful for her help and her well wishes. He smiled at her and said, "Your prayers can't hurt."

Hirale's ears twitched as soft footsteps approached them and he turned to see Solas walking toward them. Hirale immediately soured.

"If I may interrupt." Solas began.

 _I'd rather you not._

"What is it, Solas?" Cassandra asked, ignoring Hirale's glowering look at the apostate.

"As I explored the Fade, I felt the presence of an intriguing artifact somewhere here in the Hinterlands." Solas explained. He held out a rolled up piece of parchment, most likely a map. "If you would allow, I would like to locate it once we have concluded our business with the horse master."

"Where is it?" Cassandra asked.

"I have marked on the map where I believe it should be." Solas answered as he handed Cassandra the map. She unraveled it over her lap and looked over it carefully, nodding as she calculated how long it would take to find it.

"And what exactly would it _do_?" Hirale asked, making no effort to hide his suspicion from the apostate.

Hirale was not an expert in magic, and his mistrust of Solas made it harder to believe anything the weird man told them. Luckily, it wasn't simply up to Hirale to listen to Solas.

"It should help strengthen the veil from future tears."

"Then we should get going immediately." Cassandra interjected. Hirale looked at her, surprised. "Anything to stop the rifts should be our main priority. The horse master can wait."

"Okay then." Hirale agreed reluctantly, looking back to Solas and shrugging. Hirale was eager to have more distractions to keep his mind off Aydienne, even if that meant helping Solas find this artifact. "Lead the way."

* * *

 **A/N:** I decided last minute to add about a chunk more to this chapter than I expected. But hopefully you liked it! Please, read/review/follow, etc.

As before, I'd like to give credit to and endless thanks for many of the Elvhen phrases to FenxShiral for their incredible work on deconstructing the Elvhen language. To find Project Elvhen /works/3553883/chapters/7825850 or visit their tumblr under the FenxShiral tag.


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N:** Happy holidays, everyone! I hope everyone has had a wonderful Thanksgiving and NaNoWriMo. I know I didn't post much at all during that time, but I did finish a lot of writing (for future chapters and one shots I'll be posting later.) Let me know how you like this chapter. :D I really appreciate the favorites and reviews from everyone and trust me, there will be lots of tweaks to the shenanigans from the canon.

 **The Path that Leads Astray**

 **Chapter Four**

* * *

Aydienne and Dorian followed the marked path up the hill, winding its way to the entrance of a stone stronghold. It looked worn by time, but still remained sturdy and majestic. There were countless people trudging along the path toward it along side them, humming prayers and murmurs of hope as they walked.

"I think we found the cult." Dorian whispered to her.

 _No kidding._

The people around them seemed to mostly be mages, all dressed in Circle robes or Andrastian garb. They had carts loaded to the brim with fabrics and supplies, tied to mules or other cattle that helped pull them up the hill.

Not one looked like any of the refugees at the crossroads.

"They look well off enough." Aydienne observed, her voice low for only Dorian to hear. She was frowning. "They should be helping the refugees with food and shelter. They have plenty of it…"

"Welcome brothers and sisters!" A woman with strawberry blonde hair stood at the entrance, welcoming all as they poured into the castle. She wore elegant mage robes, grey fabric slick like reptile skin and gold trim that shimmered like oil.

Many stopped to greet and thank the woman before entering, but Aydienne and Dorian walked straight past and in through the entrance; they, after all, were not there to dilly-dally.

The inside of the fortress was overgrown with vines and leaves. Men were trying to clear out the old stables to put the livestock in while women were carrying loads of boxes and sacks further into the halls. The whole enclosure was busy with life as people rushed past them here and there.

In the middle of the courtyard looked to be a large statue of Andraste, untouched by time despite the growing foliage around her. Past her was a long hallway that ended at the entry of another, deeper courtyard where a bright green crystal was floating in the air. There were a few men and women kneeling down before the entrance, praying as it crackled portentously.

 _A rift?_

Aydienne hadn't seen a rift up close, but she knew they were nearly impossible to seal properly. All she knew was what Dorian had explained what he had come to know of the rifts and the occasional gossip from other people. It gave her a pretty good idea of what these portals were capable of. And with so many people so close to such an unstable force, it would doubtfully lead to a blood bath.

"Looks like they have a rift hiding away just down the hall." Dorian observed.

"It doesn't appear to be violent… for _now_." She murmured. "But they shouldn't be this close to one."

She noticed a young elven man carrying a few books and a satchel on his side that glass clanked from. He had blonde hair and a bare face, but his features matched that of the man she had seen in the crossroads. There hadn't been many elves piling into the stronghold, so it was safe to assume this was the one she was looking for.

"There." Aydienne nodded past Dorian, whose eyes trailed after her gaze to the elven man. Aydienne rushed past him, placing her hand on the young man's shoulder carefully. "Excuse me, is your name Hyndel, by chance?"

"Yes?" The boy looked at her, surprise etched finely in his expression. Aydienne felt it odd to look over such a bare, elven face. By his age, in a Dalish clan, he would already have fresh vallaslin decorating his face. "How did you know my name?"

"Your father sent us to look for you." Aydienne answered. Hyndel kept looking between the two of them blatantly confused. She explained further, "Your mother is very sick and needs a potion you have to help her."

"She was fine when I left." Hyndel said, horror seeping into his voice. "She hasn't had the breathing trouble in-" He shook his head and rustled through his bag, pulling out a vial and an attached piece of parchment. "Fine. Here, take this to them-"

There were shouts from behind them.

They spun around to see mages toppling to the ground in a panic as they ran away from the flickering rift at the end of the hall. Twists of energy danced from the crystal, forming portals on the ground around it that demons began to creep out from. Long, jagged sylvan trees came out hissing and wisps began to materialize behind them, glowing a blinding white.

"Help us, please!" Someone shouted.

Before Hyndel could say a word, Aydienne charged forward, swinging her staff off her back and forward as it charged with electricity. Dorian was close behind her, flames tracing his fingers as he sent a summoning circle of fire beneath one of the demons as it loomed over an unconscious mage.

"Everyone, get out of here!" Aydienne demanded. She didn't need to tell them twice, many of the mages were already scrambling up the stairway and away from the danger.

A large sylvan screeched as Aydienne came rushing forward, she dropped down to the ground as it swung a jagged claw at her. She tumbled past it, behind it, and slammed the edge of the staff onto the ground in front of her, sending a string of lightning through the sylvan and any other unfortunate demon nearby. Dorian sent a finishing blow of flame into the sylvan and it screeched in agony as the rift pulled it's fragmented form back into the Fade.

Aydienne knelt down to the fallen mage, feeling for a pulse.

 _She's still alive._

"Hyndel!" Aydienne shouted, looking back toward the hall. Hyndel stood, frozen to his spot, his entire body rigid and his face paler than snow. "Get these people out of here!"

Hyndel hadn't budged.

" _Now!_ "

The boy sputtered an affirmation and quickly found the courage to move his feet to help his fallen comrades. As he quickly draped the unconscious woman over his shoulder and trudged back, the rift clapped again, sending more portals erupting forward and wisps materialized around each portal.

They all reared back and sent balls of energy shooting toward Aydienne and Dorian. They dodged, but one or two managed to hit them, charring the leather of their robes.

"The demons keep coming!" Dorian shouted as he sent a fiery wall ahead of them to block any demons from getting closer. He looked at Aydienne sternly as she flicked another string of lightning between the wisps, destroying them. "At this rate we'll exhaust our mana before the next wave! We need to get out of here!"

The crystal was already charging more portals for the demons as Aydienne and Dorian took off back toward the stairs. The whirring of the portal and the distance screeching of approaching sylvan trees were growing louder. Aydienne turned back toward the rift, eyes darting around, hoping to come up with a means to stop the incoming horde.

 _I have to keep them from getting further in._

Then it hit her.

"Wait, I have an idea!" Aydienne said. "Dorian, keep them off of me!"

With that, Aydienne burst back toward the bottom of the stairs, leaving her staff behind her. Dorian cast flames at whatever possessed sylvan attempting to attack her, burning them into screeching piles before they could get to her. Aydienne quickly fell to her knees, bringing her hands down and digging her fingers into the grass.

She closed her eyes and immediately began to whisper a soft enchantment that made the grass twist into glowing magical twine, twisting into charmed circles to ward off demonic presence. A sylvan attempted to swipe at her, but Dorian quickly dispatched it with flame.

The circles were suspended in air and began to entrap the demons behind it, keeping them away from the cowering on lookers. She stood up once the barrier had engulfed the entire terrace. A sylvan or two slammed enraged fists onto the barrier, but were simply pushed back from it.

Aydienne sighed, relieved. _Success._

"You continue to amaze me." Dorian said, beaming at her. She blushed a bit, nodding toward the stairs.

"That was impressive." Hyndel complimented as she ascended the stairs. His eyes were wide and fascinated, like seeing a true hero in the flesh. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"It's a Dalish trick." She answered as Dorian handed her staff and she placed it in its strap on her back. "Our Keeper used them to protect us from demons whenever we would be exploring ancient temples."

Hyndel looked positively star-struck. "I've heard of Dalish magic but I haven't seen it in person. Does that mean you're a first?"

"Yes."

Aydienne frowned slightly. _Though, not anymore..._

"It's particularly advanced magic. Wards become stronger with years of training of course." Aydienne explained further. She eyed her handy work. The circles whirred with energy whenever the demons dared to get closer and attempt to smash through. All their attempts were for naut. "These should last for a few days if undisturbed."

"Just a few days?" Hyndel asked; the worry began to crease along the lines on his forehead.

"Wards can be kept strong with regular maintenance." Dorian explained, glancing around at the mages nearby. "But we won't be around to keep it that way and it seems there aren't any others really trained in that type of magic."

"Oh, before I forget." Hyndel pulled the potion and instructions back out from his pack and handed them to Aydienne. She took them carefully in her hand, placing the instructions in her front breast pocket before looking at Hyndel firmly.

"You all should leave until this rift can be closed properly." Aydienne concluded finally.

"There will be no need for that." A voice came from behind them. They turned to see the woman from the front gate, welcoming everyone from earlier. She looked completely undeterred from the near massacre. "The Maker shall keep us safe in this sanctuary."

"I hadn't realized the Maker was acting through us." Dorian remarked, brushing off the singed bit on his robes.

"Anais," Hyndel bowed his head respectfully.

"Hyndel, are these new members?" Anais asked facetiously, a light smirk crossed over her lips as if laughing at her own jibe.

"Absolutely not." Dorian answered, almost chuckling. "We're already part of some other cult, thank you though."

Anais' jaw clenched with annoyance. "Worship does not equate to cultism, sir."

Before Dorian could quip any further, Aydienne interrupted. "What exactly are you doing out here?"

Anais' expression eased and she folded her hands in front of her and stood up straight, feigning regality.

"We are doing the Maker's will. The Chantry has fallen and proven its imperfection in doing so." Anais explained emphatically. "The Chant of Light was a lie!" Her face turned sour again. "It was foolish for us to think mortal lips could form the Maker's will."

Dorian glanced to Aydienne, who hadn't taken her eyes off the speaker. Anais continued, "So we wait. The Maker has opened the sky and soon he will bring his chosen back to the Golden City."

"Sounds like utter madness, if you ask me." Dorian snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Anais narrowed her eyes on Dorian. " _No one_ was asking you."

"Do any of you know how to close the rifts?" Aydienne asked seriously, ignoring the childish exchange. The woman looked to the elf, the glare still plastered firmly on her face, but Aydienne continued, "If they're spewing demons every which way, shouldn't you take your people further away from them?"

"The _Maker_ will protect his chosen and reward us with paradise." Anais concluded, taking a deep breath to even her temper from boiling over.

"It isn't safe here." Aydienne insisted, but the woman was not convinced. "You _should_ be using your resources to help the refugees in the crossroads instead of flitting after demonic portals." She glanced back to her wards as they held tightly together, and then she looked back to the speaker. "Ones you can't even close or defend against."

"You don't know what you're talking about, _elf_. Besides, _you_ can't even close them yourself!" Anais crinkled her nose as she spoke, her lip curving up in repugnance. "These are the Maker's will to separate the faithful from the heretical."

Anais smirked as though she won, but Aydienne looked back toward the trapped rift. The rift crackled again and more demons erupted from it, sending waves of attacks against the wards. The wards simply purred loudly, deflecting the attacks and pushing back the demons.

 _It's working… for now._

Anais continued, "The Maker will reward his most loyal and we have nothing to fear from these tears."

Dorian placed his hand on Aydienne's shoulder, reminding her of the potion in her palm. Time began to feel more strained and she hadn't the patience to continue this argument.

"If you say so." Aydienne replied dismissively, turning away from the woman and nodding to Dorian. They had something more important to do than argue with zealots. She looked to Hyndel. "We'll get this to your mother quickly. Stay safe and be careful."

"I will." Hyndel nodded. "Thank you."

"Let's go, Dorian." Aydienne smiled and started toward the exit without another word to Anais.

* * *

They passed through the crossroads on their way to where Solas had indicated the artifact should be. The refugees seemed to be doing better, but they were still cold and hungry. Cassandra made sure to inform Corporal Vale that the templars and mages had been handled so it would be safe for them to travel along the King's Road again, but none seemed to be up for any more travel at the moment.

A few of the Corporal's men had requested them to find food or supplies to help the refugees. Cassandra suggested looking for stashes leftover from rogue apostates and templars in various camps along the countryside while Hirale knew he could easily hunt plenty of game to feed the hungry mouths.

Luckily, Hirale knew a few trapping tricks Lemhon once showed him so they could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. He informed the Inquisition scouts to keep an eye on the traps and help feed the hungry mouths at the crossroads while they looked for ways to strengthen the Veil.

But it seemed they were agreeing to more and more quests than they had time for. Leliana had sent word to them to return to Haven as there was something important they needed Hirale for.

Though _what_ , they hadn't disclosed.

"The artifact is nearby." Solas announced as Hirale finished tying the last knot on one of the traps. He stood up and motioned for the mage to lead the way and they started off again.

Travelling with these strange, new people had become much more tolerable over the past week or so. Cassandra was still rough around the edges, but it was a blunt, directness that Hirale appreciated from her. She was compassionate and forward, and once she had gotten to know Hirale and train with him, she was much more friendly than he'd ever thought possible.

 _We've come a long way from her threatening to kill me._

Varric was by far the easiest to get along with. Hirale enjoyed his stories and jokes, but listening to him made him think of Aydienne and how much she'd love to hear them. It made him think of her missing and how worried he was.

 _She's fine._

 _I'm sure of it._

Things were still strained with Solas, however; though mainly through Hirale's own pride. Part of Hirale felt like something was off about Solas, but he had no proof to back him up on any of his feelings. He was an asset to the Inquisition thus far, as no one else seemed to know as much about the Fade or the rifts as he did.

But that just made him all the more suspicious to Hirale.

Not to mention, Solas was completely intolerant of the Dalish and took every attempt at mentioning how ignorant they were.

 _Smug bastard._

Shouts rang out from the direction they were headed, ripping Hirale away from his thoughts.

Near fallen, temple ruins an elven woman stood, swinging her staff and sending magical blasts at demons that circled her. The demons outnumbered her five to one. The swarm would easily overwhelm her if they didn't step in.

Hirale took off toward her, pulling his battle-axe around as he prepared for a swinging blow. He could hear Cassandra's armor clanking behind him and the whoosh of energy from Solas' staff.

"Get back!" He shouted and the woman darted out of his way just as he came swinging around in a tornado, sending the demons flying into nearby rubble. The clunk from Bianca rang out and a flurry of arrows launched into the shades.

Cassandra charged past him, her shield slamming hard into one of the shades, causing it to disappear into nothingness. She brought her sword around and through the chest of another and it too faded away.

Hirale stood up straight, eyeing his surroundings for any more demons that cared to fight, but it seemed they had swiftly defeated them. There was a gasp behind him and he turned around to see a familiar, young elf staring at him.

Her ash colored hair was short and brushed back, matching the tone of her vallaslin and dark eye makeup. She wore robes similar to a Keeper's, though clearly constructed for an apprentice because of their color scheme. She looked a few years older, but he definitely recognized her.

" _Mihris_?" Hirale said disbelievingly.

"Hirale, is that _you_?" The woman smiled at him and he lit up. He ran up to her, embracing her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground.

"I didn't expect to see you out here!" Hirale exclaimed happily.

He was so excited to see another Dalish, especially one he had actually _knew_ , even if it was Mihris.

Aydienne had originally come from Clan Virnehn before Felassan had brought her to Clan Lavellan. Hirale had only met Mihris once after her clan had passed through the Free Marches on their way to Orlais. It had been well over a few years since they had cast Aydienne out and Mihris had taken her place as first of Clan Virnehn.

They were a particularly brash clan, but Hirale remembered Mihris fondly despite her quiet animosity toward Aydienne. She was much younger than either Hirale or Aydienne, but she was passionate and obedient, making her idyllic for a first of her clan.

Which made it all the more surprising she was out in the Hinterlands without them.

Hirale glanced around. _There's no sign of them…_

"Nor I you, Hirale. Andaran atish'an!" Mihris said as they pulled away.

She studied Hirale and his party, noting the heavily armored human woman and the dwarf with the curious crossbow. Her eyes scanned over Solas dismissively, as he was just another flat-ear to her.

"By your weapons, I see you're ready for battle." She observed, her gaze returning to Hirale. "But I should expect no less from Clan Lavellan's favored hunter." She gave him a pat him on the shoulder. "I am surprised that you're out here without them though. _Aydienne_ especially."

"They sent me to watch the Conclave and now I'm trying to fix this mess." Hirale answered, pointing up toward the green, swirling sky. Mihris gazed up at it in awe, then looking back to him with the same astonishment.

"Sounds very noble of you." Mihris gushed. "You must miss your clan."

"Terribly." Hirale sighed, but managed a smile. "I will gladly let Aydienne lecture me on the all the new things she's gathered on Orlesian politics when I get back." He didn't dare tell Mihris that Aydienne was missing.

Mihris made a face.

While Aydienne hadn't been especially popular with the hunters or crafters of their clan, among other apprentices, she was especially disliked.

Mihris often found herself in the shadow Aydienne left behind even years after she had left Clan Virnehn. Despite her heretical viewpoints and ridiculous thirst for knowledge outside of elven culture, Aydienne was well known for her natural talent and unrivaled abilities. She was an asset to any clan, _if_ they could tolerate her.

The apprentice murmured, "She is quite the… _interesting_ girl."

"But what of you, Mihris?" Hirale said, quickly changing the subject. "Were you out here fighting the demons all on your own?"

"Fighting the demons is pointless. There will always be more." Mihris answered as-a-matter-of-factly. It was a tone Hirale had come to know many apprentices to have when they spoke. "And I have no means of closing the rifts. But I have heard of elven artifacts used to measure the Veil."

"They should help discover where new rifts appear, yes." Solas added. Mihris glanced at him, a twinge of annoyance streaked over her features.

"That's why we're here too." Hirale said and she looked back to him. He motioned to his companions. "We could help."

She looked them over again, unenthused by what she saw, but she nodded in agreement, smiling at Hirale. "I would appreciate _your_ help."

"Varric and I will check the area." Cassandra said finally, nodding to Varric to follow her ahead. He brandished Bianca and followed closely after the Seeker.

Hirale and Mihris walked side by side as Cassandra and Varric shuffled around the wilderness and fallen stone. Solas had remained back with the other two elves, closer than Hirale would have liked, but the mage hadn't seemed all that interested in their catching up.

 _Probably bothered by having so many Dalish near him._ Hirale thought snidely.

"Thank you for joining me." Mihris thanked him, her voice soft and quiet in hopes the mage ahead of them wouldn't overhear. _If_ Solas was listening, he didn't let on. She looked up at Hirale with wide, appreciative eyes. "I don't think I'd be able to do this on my own."

"Of course, Mihris." Hirale smiled and clapped a hand onto her shoulder. "But why are you out here alone? Where is your clan?"

Mihris' expression darkened and she looked away from him, glaring forward. His hand fell from her shoulder. "They were all killed by a demon let loose on our clan."

 _A demon?_

"Ir Abelas, Mihris." Hirale said sadly. "Was it a demon from the rifts?"

"No." Mihris seethed. She didn't look at Hirale, but her ears twitched furtively. "It was _Felassan_."

"Felassan?" Hirale echoed, surprised. Solas glanced over inquisitively, shifting his feet carefully. Hirale hadn't noticed, he was too busy staring at Mihris in shock.

"Felassan had been passing through the forest my clan and I were staying in." Mihris explained, her fists shaking with rage. "He had a few Shems with him and they set loose a demon on us."

Hirale hadn't known Felassan well, but he doubted he was capable of something _that_ horrid. Felassan was many things, obnoxious and cryptic perhaps, but never malicious or violent from what Hirale knew. The old mage had even taken it upon himself to find Aydienne a new clan when hers would cast her out for lack of tradition.

He _couldn't_ be responsible.

 _Could he?_

"Do you know what happened to him afterwards?" Hirale asked finally as they walked toward the sealed entrance to the ruins. The pillars that once stood were now just crumbles on the ground, but many of the fallen stones blocked the entryway.

Cassandra and Varric were standing in front of the entrance, eyeing the stone as they offered ways to remove them. As Varric went to touch the stone, a shimmering light danced around the rock like scales on a fish.

"Looks like some sort of magical seal." Hirale heard Cassandra say.

"No." Mihris replied. Hirale looked back over to her. Her face was still pink with hot anger. "All I know is that if I see him again, I shall _kill_ him."

Hirale frowned, but didn't press further as Mihris walked forward to the entrance to look over the blockage herself. Violet eyes trailed after her as a million thoughts ran through his head.

 _Maybe that's why Felassan hasn't visited our clan…_

 _Or even written to Aydienne…_

 _But could he actually do something that horrendous?_

"This _Felassan_ … friend of yours?" Solas asked, catching Hirale by surprise. He hadn't realized Solas had been standing so close to him. The mage stood, arms folded behind him and a curious look in his eye.

"Hardly." Hirale answered simply. "He brought Aydienne to our clan a long time ago. He means a lot to _her_." Hirale could only imagine how the news would affect Aydienne. "She'll be very upset to know he's responsible for letting loose a demon on one of our clans."

 _On her old clan._

"Perhaps this Mihris is not giving you the whole truth." Solas suggested.

"And perhaps you should butt out of it, _flat-ear_." Hirale snapped viciously, but he knew Solas was right. Although, Hirale was not the closest to Mihris, he knew she was keeping something from him.

 _But why would she lie to me?_

"If you wish." Solas said and walked to meet up with the others. The apostate's casual response left Hirale feeling like an ass. Hirale sighed and trudged after them.

"We'll need focused magical energy to get by." Mihris said as Hirale came up. She eyed the rocks before turning her gaze to Solas, a disgusted look plastered on her face. "You. Flat-ear, think you can manage it?"

"Ma nuvenin, _da'len_." Solas answered politely with a curt smile on his face and walked over toward the entrance.

He brought his arms up in front of him and they glowed with energy that pulled the fallen pieces of the temple up and to their original spot. The magic then sealed them into place, filling the cracks as they had once been before, erasing any indication of having crumbled.

 _Nice work._ Hirale thought bitterly.

Almost immediately, Hirale could see a few shades spin around inside of the entrance, hissing wildly at them. He pulled his axe off from his back and burst past Solas, slamming the head of the axe down on both of the demons, paralyzing them for Cassandra's killing blows.

"Impressive, Hirale." Mihris noted happily as she and the others entered in behind him.

"Ma serannas, Mihris." Hirale replied. "What is this place?"

"It is an old temple, probably of our people." She answered as she glanced around, eyeing the old stone and faded tapestries. "Though, I'm sure it's been used a thousand times over by others."

The stone remained intact, though vines crept out between the crevices and held on tightly around them. Rusty torches held their place, perched at either entrance of the doorways leading further in. Old, worn out flags hug from the ceiling archway, the remnants of griffons printed on them.

"It's so dark in here. I can't see a thing." Cassandra stated, her eyes wide and her hand extended out ahead of her to brace herself. Varric grasped at a torch that hung to the wall, holding onto it as he shuffled in his pocket.

"I think there's a torch here I can light." Varric said as he lit a match and tossed it into the old torch, but the flame burned out just as quickly. "Shit."

"I believe it's a magical torch." Solas suggested, bringing his hand over it and lighting it with a quick flicker of his fingertips. The fire that rose from it was not like that Hirale had ever seen before. This fire was turquoise and seemed to make the air thin around it. It reminded of when Hirale awoke in the Fade.

"What manner of fire is that?" Cassandra asked.

"I have heard of it, but never seen it before. It's called Veilfire." Solas replied. "It is a form of sympathetic magic, a memory of flame that burns in this world where the Veil is thin."

Hirale was barely listening as he handed off a portable torch to Mihris. "Hold this."

His ears twitched as he walked carefully down the stairs deeper into the lost temple. He could hear rustling from within, a few stones falling clumsily and echoing below. He knelt low to the ground, bringing a quieting finger to his lips as the others came behind him.

Hirale carefully snuck toward the edge of a short balcony overlooking a stone courtyard. The ceiling had collapsed in over time and roots from trees and vines poured in through it.

There were statues chiseled into the pillars with skulls for heads and lace of skulls around their necks and around their feet. The smell of the ruins was stale and the air gave Hirale's sinuses a blistering pull.

Along the far wall there were shimmering pieces of treasure surrounding a large orb held up by a golden swirl of metal casing. It vaguely glowed green, like that of the Breach, but it was dimmed and flickering. Shades lurked around the courtyard and a wisp trudged back and forth in front of the orb protectively.

"There!" Mihris whispered excitedly. She pointed to the orb dead center in the midst of the demons and treasure. "If we activate that crystal, it should react to strengthen the Veil."

"We just need to clear those demons." Varric added.

"Leave that to us." Cassandra said, looking over to Hirale who was already bringing his axe around in front of him. They charged off and made short work of the demons patrolling.

Once the dust had settled, Solas walked over to the orb and waved a hand over it. It whirred loudly as the light erupted from it and the magic within activated.

"The wards are working to strengthen the Veil." Solas said confidently, looking around him as if past all the stone. "This area will be safer for travellers."

"Good." Mihris added, satisfied.

Her eyes lit up upon glancing over scattered remains of treasure all around the artifact. She grabbed a glowing amulet first, holding it up in the dim light to watch it sparkle. Captivated by it.

"And it seems the ancestors have left something for me as well. Interesting."

"What is that exactly?" Hirale asked.

"An amulet of _power_." Mihris' face lit up with hunger. A look Hirale had never seen on her before. His stomach clenched and his ears felt twitchy. "It grants the user of it new knowledge of abilities. They're quite helpful for learning new magical talents quickly."

Hirale glanced sideways to Solas.

"Mihris, may I take that with me?" Hirale asked pointing to the amulet. She clutched it closer to her chest for a moment, but Hirale threw her a charming smile. "I've got a long road ahead of me and I could use all the help I can get. Surely, I can ask help from another _Dalish_ …"

Mihris looked at him cautiously and he took a step toward her, careful and nonthreatening, his charm never leaving his smile.

"Ma halani, ma glandival." Hirale stretched out a hand, laying his palm up toward her. She stared for a moment and sighed, placing the amulet in his hand. Solas raised his brow, surprised by impressed by Hirale's coercion.

"I… Of course."

"Ma serannas, Mihris." Hirale replied as he took the amulet.

She remained crouching over the little bit of treasure, running her fingers over the coins as she looked over the loot. Hirale cleared his throat as he stood, nodding his party to the exit.

Once they were out of earshot, Hirale looked back at her. "I should be going, Mihris."

She stood up to give him a proper farewell hug. "Be safe, Hirale."

"You too, Mihris." Hirale replied. "And if you need anything, please find the Inquisition scouts. They will help in any way they can."

"Thank you, Hirale." She said, the edges of her lips twitching as if to frown. "But this journey is of my own. As I'm sure yours is as well."

Hirale nodded, but said no more. He gave her a brief, farewell hug and then he left her there.

He joined up with the rest of his group at the stairway, none of them asked about Mihris. As they walked out of the cave, the sunlight bathing over them in blinding intensity, Hirale fingered the amulet in his hand. The gem in the center of the golden clasp was bright green and swirling. He turned it over, glancing over the faded writing on the back, but it was far too worn and ancient for him to read.

He glanced over to Solas who hadn't said a word since the cave. Hirale frowned, knowing he was in the wrong for his outburst earlier, even if he didn't like Solas.

He could imagine Aydienne insisting he apologize for snapping.

 _Even when she isn't here, she's mothering me._

"Solas?" Hirale cleared his throat and the mage turned to him. Hirale tossed the amulet to him. "Here, take this. You could probably use it better than I could."

The apostate caught the pendant in his palms and looked at Hirale, surprised, but realized quickly that it was the closest to an apology he would get from this proud, Dalish elf.

"Ma serannas." Solas replied with a nod and they continued walking.

* * *

Hirale had every intention of turning back toward the crossroads after the ordeal with Mihris, if they hadn't come across an old fortress full of people. They weren't refugees in the least, but turned out to be a Cult of Andraste, much to Hirale's vexation.

 _More Andraste…_

They would have continued walking past, as none of them wanted to deal with Andrastian cults and they needed to return to Haven as soon as possible, if Solas hadn't sensed a rift and an Elvhen artifact inside.

 _Just my luck._

They walked along the winding pathway up to the entrance only to be met by a stern looking woman in glorious robes. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked over them skeptically as they came closer. The gate inside had been closed and she stood guard outside of it.

"Greetings." Cassandra offered as they came up to her. "We are from the Inquisition. We are here to-"

"I _know_ what you're here for." The speaker stated; her hands fell to her hips as she looked over Hirale with a scowl. "Stories of you mastering the rifts are making their way all across the land. But I know them for what they are."

"And what might that be?" Hirale asked.

"Blind heresy."

"Well, aren't you just sugar and honey?" Hirale commented, earning a frown from the woman. Hirale held out his palm, the mark glowing ominously across his hand. "But, I _can_ close rifts with this."

"Then prove it." She looked down at him over her pointed nose. "I've had enough of your kind coming here, thinking they know more than we do about the rifts."

Hirale raised an eyebrow. "My kind?"

" _Dalish_. Nonbelievers coming here and thinking they know more than the Maker's followers." She spat, motioning for the gate to be lifted. As it creaked up, allowing them passage, she turned to look at him, sneering. "But get to it then, if you're going to close a rift then. Show us the 'power' you wield."

Hirale rolled his eyes and walked past her, his companions close behind. The smattering of people in the shelter seemed apprehensive to look at Hirale and his party as they walked through the courtyard. Even Varric, who offered charming sideways smiles at them, was met with shifty fleeting glances.

"I suppose it only seem natural some would turn to worshipping the Breach." Solas murmured, glancing around the courtyard at the whispering people as they rushed inside for cover. "If only to appease it."

"That is _not_ the Maker's will." Cassandra declared. Her brow was furrowed angrily and her lips were closed tightly in a thin frown. "Are they all mad?"

"These are desperate times, Seeker." Varric added, though it didn't quell her concerns in the least.

"Let's find the rift and close it then." Hirale said decisively. "I can't wait to shut that woman up."

At the end of the hall there was a door, barricaded by wooden planks, but a vicious green glow peeked through the crevices. The planks were quickly removed as they came up onto the door and the people scurried away without any word. Inside the smaller courtyard was an angry rift, crackling with demons circling around it.

As they walked down the stairway, Hirale noticed swirls of Dalish binding circles guarding at the foot of the stairs. The demons stood closely behind the enchantments, hissing furiously and waiting for the moment the barrier would fade.

"These are Dalish wards." Hirale murmured. He knelt down, glancing over them carefully. He hadn't been particularly well versed in magic, but he could tell a Dalish's wards from any other.

He had Aydienne to thank for that.

" _When the veil is thin, spirits and demons are more likely to possess bodies or creatures. It's as though the wall between the Fade and our world goes from being as hard as stone to as easy to move through as water." Aydienne once told him._

 _They sat in the middle of a sunny grove, far away from the rest of the clan, with only the soft chirping of birds and the brush of wind blowing past them._

" _As a Keeper, I'll be expected to protect the clan with my magic. Protective wards are set up to reinforce that stonewall. So it'll be important for me to learn."_

" _Sounds difficult." Hirale murmured as he lazily lay near her. He chewed a thread of grass between his teeth and eyed her practice circles she summoned. They rustled erratically and then calmed, earning a pursed lipped glare from Aydienne._

" _They are." Aydienne agreed, looking over her work and then waving a hand over them to make them disappear. "Strong wards require a lot of magical focus… so they're not taught right away. These are lessons taught when an apprentice is almost ready to become a Keeper."_

 _Aydienne summoned the circles again, though this time they didn't sputter as much as before, she still looked unsatisfied. She erased them again._

" _Does Thelnarel know how to do it yet?" Hirale asked, but he doubted it. While Thelnarel was good with magic, he often fed into bad habits of expelling too much mana on offensive spells instead of defensive spells._

 _He was all flash and no heat._

" _No." Aydienne answered. She looked at Hirale somewhat embarrassedly, shrugging offhandedly as she added, "Actually the Keeper hasn't begun to teach either one of us this just yet."_

" _Then how are you…?"_

" _I was watching how the Keeper does it and I read a little bit further in my studies." Aydienne replied. "The magical focus comes from the will of the caster. My will to protect those around me creates the circles that bind against attacks and creates a barrier of protection. It's almost like the barriers battle mages cast on the warriors in fights, but it's used to trap demons and keep them from passing through certain places."_

 _Aydienne ran her fingers through the grass again, grasping handfuls as she concentrated again. Magical energy twisted out from the grass, spiraling into circles that molded around each other like gears. The circles didn't dance around wildly anymore and they whirred lightly from the energy they held._

 _She took a rock and tossed it at them, sending it firing back past them and through a tree trunk. She smiled triumphantly at Hirale._

 _He snorted. "Overachiever."_

"They look freshly made." Solas observed, grabbing Hirale away from his thoughts. He glanced over to the apostate who was inspecting the wards carefully. "Perhaps your friend, Mihris, passed through here before we found her."

"Maybe." Hirale replied doubtfully.

 _Mihris hasn't been trained in this advanced magic yet, I don't think…_

"We should worry about that later." Hirale stood up, looking back over to Solas. "Right now, we need to close that rift. Can you shatter the wards?"

Solas nodded. "Yes, but make sure you're ready."

"When those wards come down, we'll be ass deep in demons." Varric warned as he and Solas positioned themselves further up the stairs. Cassandra drew her sword, her shield held firmly as she prepared herself. Hirale swung his axe out in front of him, nodding to Solas.

Solas brought his hands out in front of him, clutching tightly and disarming the wards. As soon as the circles disappeared, the demons charged forward in a hissing, screeching mess. Hirale and Cassandra burst forward at them as Solas quickly cast a barrier around the two of them.

As Hirale and Cassandra pounded the front lines of sylvan tree demons, Varric sent a wave of arrows up over them and into the wisps that were shooting magic from the backlines.

Jagged claws were swinging every which way at them. Cassandra took the brunt of the swings with her shield, knocking the demons off balance by her fortitude. Hirale came bursting in, spinning in a heavy whirlwind and chopping up the wooden limbs with every hit. Once the sylvan trees had fallen, shades appeared in puffs of smoke, whistling belligerently at them.

"I'll clear a path to the rift, _you_ close it." Cassandra ordered as she charged forward, pushing over the shades and leaving them dazed and confused. Hirale was close behind her, tossing his axe onto his back as he popped his knuckles.

The shades were soon back up, but were engulfed in a burst of fire. Hirale glanced back, seeing a young, elven man standing next to Solas, his hands glowing orange. Cassandra spun around behind Hirale, placing her shield in front of her in time for a blast of energy a wisp sent their way.

Varric shot an arrow through its skull and it was sucked back into the rift. Cassandra nodded in approval to the dwarf before battling off the weakened shades as they pushed through the searing pain of the flames on their flesh.

Hirale brought his hand up to the rift and it immediately attached itself with a string of energy. It whirred deeply as it began to shut and he pulled his hand close, sealing the rift and destroying all the demons in the process.

Everything was quiet for a few moments, but then they were engulfed in the soft rumble of cheers from the cultists. There were cheers of gratitude and a singing of prayers as they ascended the stairs and returned to the courtyard.

"Maker's tears." The speaker breathed as she came up to them. She looked apologetic as she gazed at Hirale in awe. "I was a fool to have doubted you."

"Yeah, no shit." Hirale remarked, earning a nudge from Cassandra and a disapproving look.

The woman bowed her head respectfully. "How may we serve you, Herald of Andraste?"

"It's _Hirale_." He replied, his face red and annoyed. He looked over to Cassandra and nodded to her for an answer. "Cassandra?"

"Have your people help the refugees." Cassandra replied instantly. She eyed the walls of the stronghold, noting how the walls inched toward the sky endlessly and the decades of time had yet to tear them down. "This could prove a useful fortress for them to find safety."

The woman nodded. "As you would have it."

She turned heel and began to instruct various people of their new duties. The young, elven man came up to them, his eyes wide and amazed as he looked over Cassandra and Hirale. He was clearly not a Dalish, not just by the look of his robes but the absence of vallaslin gave him away.

Hirale was still grateful for his help.

"Thank you for your help, Herald."

"You were helping us fight those demons, right?" Hirale asked and the young man nodded.

"That was very brave." Cassandra complimented. The boy blushed and babbled a few denials, but the Seeker shook her head and insisted, "Not many would have done what you did to help."

"Clearly, by how many people in here didn't choose to stand up and help." Solas added and the boy sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

"What is your name?" Hirale asked.

"Hyndel." He answered.

Hirale pointed to where the wards had faded as he looked at the other elf. "Did you put up those wards? They looked elven."

 _Dalish, more like it._

"No, sir." The young man replied, head shaking. "A woman passing through with a man put them down a few hours ago when the rift first started acting up." Hirale's heartbeat quickened. "She was sent by my father to help my mother with her illness."

 _A woman?_

"Do you happen to know her name?"

"No, sir. We hadn't the chance before demons started coming out of the rift." Hyndel answered. "The man she was travelling with was named Dorian, but that's all I know."

"Oh…" Hirale breathed disappointedly. Hyndel looked apologetic, but Hirale waved it off and smiled. "Thank you for your help."

"Your father sent her?" Solas asked. "Why wouldn't he come himself?"

"My mother is ill and he couldn't leave her." Hyndel replied. "Luckily that woman and her friend came in his place to get her medicine for her."

"Why don't you go home to them?" Varric asked.

"I… thought I could do better out here." The boy was young, almost as young as Mihris. Hirale frowned.

"In times like these, Hyndel, I would not leave my own clan if I didn't have a choice in the matter. Being with them, especially during the chaos of the Breach, may be the better good after all." Hirale said.

He thought of his clan and how much he missed them. While, he had finally become a bit more comfortable in helping the Inquisition, he ultimately didn't have a choice where _this_ boy did.

Hirale envied him.

"It sure as hell is better than hauling up in some old fortress worshipping a rift." Varric added.

Hyndel looked at them for a few moments before finally saying, "You… are right. I'll leave for home at once." Hyndel took off to gather his things, but turned back for a moment and looked at Hirale. "Thank you."

Then the boy was gone.

Hirale looked over to Solas. "You said there was an elven artifact here, right?" Solas nodded. "Let's find it and get back to Haven. I'm sure the advisors don't want to be kept waiting."

Solas motioned toward inside one of the towers and they followed. Varric gave a few narrations of his observations, thinking out loud for the next book he'd be writing. Cassandra stayed back with Hirale, behind the other two as Solas lead the way.

"That was very kind, what you said to that boy." Cassandra mentioned as they trudged up the stairs. Hirale shrugged.

"I was just being honest with him." Hirale replied. "He gets a choice in being with his family during all this, while I don't. I'm jealous of him for that."

Cassandra was quiet for a moment longer than Hirale felt comfortable with. He often worried he was putting his foot in his mouth every time the discussion of leaving the Inquisition came up. It came to no surprise that Hirale was desperately homesick, but Cassandra seemed disappointed any time he mentioned not having a choice in the matter.

 _Well, I didn't have a choice._

"I know you're not happy to be part of this, but we are glad to have you here regardless." Cassandra said finally. Hirale looked back at her. Her face was still as stone cold as it always looked, though she seemed to be trying and Hirale smiled.

"Thank you, Cassandra."

* * *

Aydienne and Dorian made it back to the crossroads just in time. The man gave his wife her medicine and she was already improving by the late afternoon. The family had been so grateful they offered their home for the two mages to stay in for the evening. Aydienne declined before Dorian, having been fed up with camping in the wilderness, could accept the offer.

"Redcliffe is just up that hill. Follow the pathway and continue north." Hyndel's father pointed up a hill sandwiched between large, solid rock and outlined by various trees. Aydienne nodded and looked back to the man. "There may be bandits, so be careful." He looked at her, thankful for her and Dorian's help, and smiled lightly. "And if you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask. We are so grateful for your help. Sylaise bless you."

"Ma serannas." Aydienne replied beaming. "You've been a great help to us."

 _Now to Redcliffe,_ Aydienne thought, determined as she and Dorian made their way up the hill and toward the town.

 _No more delays._

A part of her was glad for the delay.

The more she saw the chaos across the Hinterlands, these rifts emerging from some Fade nightmare, and the rumors of the Divine's death, the more her thoughts exaggerated into awful scenarios for Hirale. Everyone seemed to confirm that the Temple of Sacred Ashes was now in ruin and there were no survivors, save one 'Herald of Andraste.'

 _Is it too much to hope for that the Herald is actually Hirale?_ Aydienne almost laughed at her optimism.

 _Or perhaps he never made it to the Temple._

 _Or he got out before the Breach destroyed it._

She pushed the thoughts away and glanced over to Dorian as they walked quietly along the pathway toward Redcliffe.

"So how do you intend to stop this magister?" Aydienne asked finally. They hadn't spoken much about their reasons for going to Redcliffe, save the bare minimum. Most of their conversations were about philosophy or their lives before they left home. "Do you even know what his plan is?"

"Not entirely, no, but I have a contact I'm meeting in Redcliffe." Dorian answered. "What about you? When we get to Redcliffe are you going to be on the first horse to the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

Aydienne wouldn't say they were close, she just met the man after all, but she was glad for Dorian's company. The closer they got to Redcliffe, the more apparent it became to her that they would be parting ways soon.

She couldn't decide if she was ruing that moment or not.

"Ideally." Aydienne responded absentmindedly. Dorian frowned slightly and Aydienne quickly added, "But I'll make sure you get to your contact before I go." Dorian looked at her, surprised. "Just in case you're ambushed by templars again. You'll need me."

Aydienne nudged his shoulder playfully and he laughed.

"You've got me there."

There hadn't been another rift along the way to Redcliffe and if there had been bandits, they had conveniently missed them. As they approached the gates of Redcliffe, they could see a flood of mages pouring inside. Many of them wore their Circle robes, while others wore various enchanter coats, easily spotted by the lack of metallic armor attached to them. Aydienne and Dorian blended right into the crowd and followed them in.

Mages filed in every which way into Redcliffe and many of the townspeople sneered at them as they entered. A few, bolder of the onlookers would shout their distain to the mages; mixtures of 'abominations' and 'the Divine's killers.' The unrest was palpable, but nothing broke out into violence

Aydienne hadn't experienced the prejudice mages did amongst humans; rather, they were more focused on her _ears_ and vallaslin than her magical abilities. She knew very little about actual experiences inside the Circles, but from the turnout of rebel mages, it couldn't have been good.

"Do you see your friend?" Aydienne turned to Dorian who had been scanning over the crowd, but didn't appear to have found who he was looking for. Dorian frowned and shook his head.

"Fashionably late, it seems." Dorian answered, looking over to Aydienne. "We should try to remain indoors so I'm not seen. I don't want to lose my element of surprise."

"And with those robes, you stick out like a sore thumb." Aydienne remarked, grinning.

"An incredibly _well-dressed_ sore thumb, I'll have you." Dorian countered. He pointed over to a small shop across the way. The window had stacks of books on display and shelves of books could be seen deeper within. "How about in there-"

Before Dorian could finish, Aydienne grabbed him by the hand and pulled him toward it, eager to take a look inside the tiny shop.

Aydienne was thrilled to see so many different books on the shelves she could barely contain herself. Her fingertips scrolled over the bindings of each tome, reveling in the hardback covers of each one while her heart fluttered with excitement.

The only book she bothered to bring with her was the one Felassan had sent her about Fen'Harel. Inside it were folded letters from her old friend, keeping places of interesting stories and points the Orlesian author made.

It was the only book worth bringing, she decided, though she missed her collection of books she had back home. Though, she doubted she'd ever see her collection again anyway.

As she looked over the titles of each story in front of her, her mind began to wander back to Hirale and worry placed itself in the middle of her chest like a lead weight.

 _What happens when I find Hirale?_

 _Do I go back home with him?_

Could I go back?

 _Or worse… what if I don't find him?_

 _What do I do then?_

Lost in her thoughts, she bumped into someone, sending a stack of books in their hands to the ground in a messy heap. Aydienne was mortified and she quickly knelt down to pick up the books.

"I'm so sorry." Aydienne apologized, grabbing the books and smoothing out their pages before she stacked them. The man she ran into knelt down with her, picking up the discarded books. She looked up at him, handing him one entitled 'The Fifth Blight: Volume 2.'

"No need to apologize." The man replied. He had light, red hair and pale skin speckled with orange freckles. He had large ears peering out from the sides of his rosy cheeks. And he had the saddest, brown eyes when he looked at her. "My name is Conner." He extended a hand.

"I'm Aydienne." She shook his hand; smiling and grateful he wasn't upset with her for nearly destroying his books. She motioned to Dorian, who was casually eyeing the poor selection on Tevinter culture with a grimace. "And this is Dorian."

Dorian twiddled his fingers with a quick 'hello' before he grabbed one of the books in front of him and flipped through it aggressively.

"Are you from a different Circle?" Conner asked. Aydienne looked him over. He hadn't been wearing any Circle robes, like so many of the mages filing into Redcliffe. Instead, he wore some excellently crafted finery like that of a nobleman. "I would have recognized you from the Ferelden Circle."

"We're not from the Circle." Dorian answered, still mulling over the book in his hands. He looked up and smiled charmingly at Conner. "We're researchers, you see. We work outside of the Circle."

"Meeting up with a friend of ours that is supposed to show us the way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes." Aydienne added, gazing at Dorian, unsure why he was lying to Conner, but played along nonetheless. "For our research, of course."

"Are you apostates, then?" Conner asked, glancing at their staves.

"Technically, we're _all_ apostates since the rebellion." Dorian answered hastily. "But, no. We were commissioned by the Loyalist mages to gather information about the Breach and how it can be stopped."

"We're trying to keep a low profile by staying indoors." Aydienne said. "In case a few rebel mages recognize us and pick a fight."

Dorian smiled, nodding in approval to her.

"I can understand that." Conner said, glancing outside to the crowds of mages. He frowned. "I can't believe King Alistair thought it was a good idea to send the mages here… of all places."

Aydienne raised an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with Redcliffe?"

"The King grew up here." Conner said, as he looked her in the eye. "And he was here when the dead were attacking the city… when, _I_ had let them."

"Wait, _you're_ Arl Eamon's son?" Aydienne asked.

It hadn't been a secret that Arl Eamon's son, Conner, was a mage and at a very young age, during the last Blight, had nearly taken Redcliffe down with the corruption of a demon. His mother had attempted to keep it secret, for fear he'd be shipped off to the Ferelden Circle. When the demon took over him and his father fell ill during the Blight, the Hero of Ferelden had saved the town and defeated the demon within him.

It was a surprise, however, that Conner was back in Redcliffe.

"Yes." Conner replied simply, glowering over the terrible memory. "Did he really think the people would just forget what I had done?"

"You were behind the siege of Redcliffe ten years ago?" Dorian asked, surprised as he glanced Conner up and down.

Conner nodded and said, "Many of the people don't recognize me, but I'm afraid being out in public they may catch wind of my return." He looked at them both, still melancholy but he offered kindly, "If you need a place to stay, I have plenty of room in the castle. It'll be easier than finding any rooms available at this rate. Especially, if you two are trying to keep a low profile."

Dorian lit up, all smiles and wide, grateful eyes and before Aydienne could decline for them, he was already accepting and singing praises to Conner for his hospitality.

Aydienne couldn't help but feel terrible for lying to Conner.

* * *

Hirale was glad to be back in Haven. He was excited to have a few moments of relaxation in the forest without worrying about bandits, demons, or whatever nonsense the Creators thought to throw at him. Unfortunately, their visit would be cut short as the advisors insisted they meet with Cassandra and Hirale as soon as they returned.

"You can't be _serious_!" Cullen's voice was muffled through the heavy wooden door to the war room, but Hirale could hear him clear from the end of the hall.

The three advisors were so different, Hirale often found them bickering over the proper execution for any task. Leliana was always quick for assassinations while Josephine would rather send a box of the finest sweets to coerce people into submission. Cullen was more blunt and frequently disagreed with both the women on the necessity of menial tasks; often with a fair amount of sass that Hirale found utterly delightful. Hearing the Commander complaining at the end of the hall was not a surprise.

"Mother Giselle isn't wrong." Josephine's voice chimed in. "The only thing uniting the Chantry is _opinion_."

The Chantry mother had arrived a few days before Hirale and company. By the change in demeanor from the townspeople, she was easily soothing them back into their faith in the Maker; a feat Hirale was more than thankful for.

Then it was Leliana's turn to speak. "And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?"

It was rare to hear Leliana agree with Cullen for a change. It wasn't that the two hadn't gotten along, but the spymaster often referred to Cullen's tactics as being akin to a caveman's.

" _So brutish and no finesse!"_

Cassandra and Hirale glanced at one another. Despite being visibly uneasy, Hirale pushed open the door and they walked in together. The advisors were all in their usual spots, but this time Cullen and Leliana were glowering at Josephine who simply smiled brightly upon seeing Hirale enter the room.

"Let's ask him ourselves." She stated as she pointed her feathered pen his way.

"Talking about me again?" Hirale asked playfully, hoping the whimsy in his tone would ease the tension. He scratched at one of his ears. "That would explain my ears burning."

"Herald,"

" _Hirale._ "

"We have received news from Val Royeaux that the clerics will be speaking to the public about the Inquisition." "I believe it would be a great opportunity for you, as the Herald, to show the people who you are and remind them of our cause."

Hirale practically snorted. "You can't be serious."

"That's what I said!" Cullen remarked, still sour-faced at Josephine.

"They're all talk." Josephine assured, waving the Commander off. "Not all snakes are poisonous, some just like to hiss."

"I will go with you." Cassandra assured and Hirale eased. The Seeker turned her gaze back to Leliana. "Mother Giselle said she could provide names. _Use_ them."

"To what end? This is nothing but a-"

"What choice do we have, Leliana?" Cassandra interrupted, fed up with the arguments. She was itching to get out of the war room. "Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach." Cassandra turned back to Hirale. "We should leave at once for Val Royeaux."

Hirale frowned, but nodded in agreement and followed her out of the war room.

 _So much for a moment's peace._

Leliana and Josephine stayed, but Commander Cullen walked along with them toward the exit. He, of course, probably had more training exercises to put the recruits through. He was quite the workaholic.

"So, how are the new recruits?" Hirale asked carefully, not sure why his palms were sweating.

"Oh, they're doing much better." Cullen responded. "Many of them are coming from different fighting backgrounds, but those that haven't are eager to learn."

"I would be too with such a great teacher." Hirale said lightly before blushing and stuttering out, "I mean, you seem to know what you're doing."

Cullen chuckled. "I was a Knight-Captain before this. I have experience training new recruits."

"Maybe you can show me sometime?" Hirale suggested. "I'm sure you could teach me a lot." Hirale motioned toward Cassandra who had been eyeing the two curiously. "Cassandra has already taught me so much."

"Stop by the training yard sometime when you return from-" Cullen's voice trailed as he looked forward. Hirale's gaze followed the Commander's.

The doors to the Chantry were open at the end of the hall and they could see a crowd building around the entrance. There were rumbles of voices trying to speak over one another, growing louder as they came closer. Hirale didn't think much of it, until he heard the shouts turn belligerent.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy!" A man alleged, rounding on a mage who stood firm, refusing to show weakness.

The man wore thick, templar armor, neatly embroidered with the flaming sword of the Order. The shimmering silverite armor glinted in the afternoon sunlight. He was surrounded by other supposed templars, some of which wore the same armor while others wore warmer coats that bore the colors of the Chantry.

"Lies." The mage spat venomously, pointing an accusing finger back at the templar. Other mages behind him had brandished their staves, ready to fight if this argument were to take a turn. " _Your_ kind let her die."

That was the last straw.

The templar grabbed for his sword upon his waist, snarling, "Shut your mouth, mage!"

"Enough!" Cullen burst between them, pushing them back away from one another and glaring at them. The Commander towered well over both of them; though Hirale rarely noticed how tall he _actually_ was considering how small the elf was in comparison to humans he met.

The templar's snarl fell into embarrassment. "Knight-Captain."

"That is not my title anymore." Cullen stated as his eyes narrowed on the templar. "We are not templars any longer." He turned his gaze to the mage, a scolding finger pointed at the man's face. "We are _all_ part of the Inquisition."

"And what does that mean exactly?" Came a familiar, unwelcomed drawl.

 _Just what this needs…_

"Back already, Chancellor?" Cullen quipped as the Chancellor snaked his way through the townspeople, his arms tucked behind his back firmly. "Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm simply curious, Commander, as to how you and your Inquisition and its 'Herald…'" The Chancellor looked down his nose at Hirale, who in turn scoffed back. "…Will restore the order as you've promised."

" _Of course_ you are." Cullen sneered. He nodded off to the crowd around him, waving a hand dismissively. "Back to your duties, all of you."

The crowd of people began to shuffle away, murmuring under their breath but none making a point to charge the fight again. Hirale watched as the mages shuffled away to Adan's cabin and the templars were off to the training yards. He and Cassandra walked up to Cullen, who stood with arms crossed over his chest as the Chancellor sneered up at him.

"Mages and templars were already at each others throats with this war." Cassandra said.

"And now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death." Hirale frowned as he looked back over to Cassandra. "I'm glad everyone uses this time of crisis to go completely mad."

"Which is why we require a _proper_ authority to guide them back to Order." The Chancellor decreed.

"Who? _You_?" Cullen snorted.

Cassandra added pugnaciously, "Random clerics that weren't important enough to be at the Conclave? Unlikely."

"You would put the authority in the hands of the rebel Inquisition and it's so-called 'Herald of Andraste?'" The Chancellor sneered at her before glancing over distastefully at Hirale. "I think not."

"So what then?" Hirale challenged. "The Chantry?"

"Yes."

"Because the Chantry is really the authority that should be handling this nonsense." Hirale commented with a dramatic eye roll.

"It _is_." "We are not some upstart, eager to overturn every apple cart."

"I have not _once_ overturned an apple cart since I got here." Hirale commented, pausing to consider before adding, "Have there been apple carts around me that I haven't seen?"

"Centuries of tradition will guide us."

Hirale couldn't contain the repulsive snort as he laughed at the Chancellor. "Even though it's the reason the war broke out in the first place?"

"The war broke out because of a rogue apostate and a Knight-Commander that had been corrupted." The Chancellor defended pointedly. The Commander's face darkened and his fists balled tightly at his side.

"You don't know what happened there." Cullen snapped, glaring at the Chancellor. " _You_ do not _speak_ of Kirkwall, Chancellor."

Hirale only knew that the Commander had originally been stationed at Kirkwall and had been there for the rebellion, but other than that, the Commander didn't offer much more information about it. Hirale figured, as an ex-templar, it was a touchy subject because the Chantry's inherent failings that led to the mage uprising.

But there seemed to be something more.

Hirale cleared his throat, hoping to change the subject. "Remind me again, Commander, why we're allowing the Chancellor to stay here?"

"Clearly your templar knows where to draw the line." Chancellor Roderick spat but Hirale simply sneered back in response.

"He's toothless." Cullen stated as he looked over to Hirale, shifting his shoulders to exclude the Chancellor. The Commander seemed calmer looking at Hirale. "There's no point in turning him into a martyr because he runs his mouth."

"He is a good indicator for what we should expect in Val Royeaux." Cassandra added, her back also excluding the Chancellor's involvement in the conversation. The Chancellor sputtered a few objections, but none of them paid him any attention.

"Well, here's hoping we find solutions and not a cathedral full of Chancellors." Hirale shivered. He imagined a towering throne of Chancellors, all of which were shouting obscene comments or blame at him in some Orlesian drawl that made their words indistinguishable in the chaos.

Cullen breathed a laugh, easing the tension in Hirale's shoulders. "The stuff of nightmares."

"Mock if you will, I'm certain the Maker is not amused." The Chancellor quipped, finally taking the hint of his unwelcomed presence as he turned to leave them.

"The Maker _must_ have a sense of humor." Hirale said glibly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the Chancellor smugly as the repugnant man walked away. "Or he wouldn't keep sending you to me."

The Chancellor scoffed, pretending not to be offended but it was written in the redness of his ears and the twitching of his eyebrows.

Once he was out of view, Cassandra looked at Hirale and said, "We should get going."

The elf nodded to her before looking over to the Commander carefully. He had been staring at Hirale for a moment, and upon being caught looked away quickly, almost embarrassedly.

 _That's reading too much into it, Hirale._

"Try to keep things under control here." Hirale offered lightly.

"Don't worry, Herald."

" _Hirale_." The elf corrected habitually.

"Right. Hirale." Cullen corrected. Hirale smiled blushingly back, his stomach flipping at the way his name rolled off the Commander's tongue.

 _Oh Creators._

* * *

The Redcliffe castle was not, by far, a show of elegance from the outside. It looked sturdy and made of old stone, but it reeked of Ferelden resilience. It was a stronghold over being a fancy castle and it looked like it could withstand another Blight or two. The grounds of the castle flourished with flowers and luscious green grass and there were guards posted at every entrance.

Inside felt warm and inviting, the light of the flame lit torches giving an orange glow to the otherwise grey hallways. Each floor had a fine rug stretching from doorway to doorway and the walls had embroidered tapestries hanging from them.

"After the Landsmeet, my father stayed in Denerim." Conner explained. "I couldn't be his heir, not after what happened." Conner's tone trailed off, but he cleared his throat and continued. "So eventually he passed on the title to my uncle Teagan."

He motioned to a painted portrait on the wall of a man who looked similar to Conner in red hair and freckled nose.

"When King Alistair told the mages to stay in Redcliffe, my uncle insisted that I stay in the castle."

"Looks like hospitality runs in the family." Dorian complimented.

"Maybe." Conner said with a shrug. He motioned toward the stairway and they followed after him. "My uncle also invited Grand Enchanter Fiona to stay so that discussions with her could be held properly over the mage rebellion."

"Does he support the mages, then?" Aydienne asked.

"My uncle is skeptical, but is willing to do as King Alistair says." Conner answered as they walked up the winding stairs. Once they made it to the top, Conner opened a door to one the many rooms down the hallway. "The King feels a little camaraderie with Fiona because she was once a Grey Warden, after all."

" _Was_?" Aydienne echoed. "I thought becoming a Grey Warden was permanent?"

Very little was known about the process of becoming a Grey Warden and the Order itself was very secretive about it. But it was universally known that one doesn't simply walk away from being a Grey Warden, least of all to return to the Circle. There were rumors that the Grey Wardens were bound by the Blight, but the Order never confirmed any of them.

"Apparently not." Conner replied with a shrug. "She doesn't talk much about it."

Dorian finally broke his gaze away from the mirror and looked over to Conner. "Is Grand Enchanter Fiona here now?"

"She _was_." Conner answered. "She left for Val Royeaux a few days ago to listen in on a few talks being held over the Inquisition being started."

"Seems a bit dangerous for the leader of the rebel mages to go to the capital of Orlais." Dorian mused, then he turned back to look himself over in the mirror. He started muttering praises to his good looks as he pruned.

Conner looked over to Aydienne and said cautiously, "Your husband seems quite peculiar."

"Oh, he's not my husband." Aydienne clarified absentmindedly. "He's my friend."

"Oh, I thought you two were…" Conner fumbled over his words, embarrassed. "If you need, there is another room across the way for you to stay in if you'd like your own sleeping quarters." Conner pointed out the door and across the hall.

"Thank you, Conner." Aydienne said, beaming at him. He blushed and looked away, awkward and boyish.

"I-if you need anything let me know." He uttered and quickly left, closing the door behind him. Dorian pursed his lips suggestively, looking sideways at Aydienne.

"You little minx."

"What?"

"I think the lad fancies you."

"Oh shush." Aydienne waved a hand off at him, though she felt a rush of flattery pour through her.

Aydienne was, by no means, unattractive but often she found herself less desirable among her own kind. She often reminded herself that she wasn't interested in any of them anyway, but Conner's crush was flattering nonetheless.

She gazed after the door for a moment before looking back over to Dorian, her brow furrowed. "Hey, why did you lie to Conner about why we're here?"

"Because I'm from _Tevinter_." Dorian answered as he rounded the large bed. "Southerners don't take kindly to Tevinter mages waltzing in and I didn't want to cause a scene."

He flopped down onto the bed, groaning in exaggerated ecstasy over the softness of the comforter. He rubbed his face in the plush pillow.

"I didn't think it would get us a castle to stay in."

* * *

 **A/N:** Once again, thank you for the reads, the favorites, the reviews, and your patience while I write this. This is kind of a filler chapter and I feel like those are always the hardest to write since they move so slowly. More plot in the next chapter though, I promise.

I'd like to give credit and endless thanks for many of the Elvhen phrases to FenxShiral for their incredible work on deconstructing the Elvhen language. To find Project Elvhen /works/3553883/chapters/7825850 or visit their tumblr under the FenxShiral tag.

Ma serannas, Hahren!

 **Translations:**

 **Ma nuvenin, da'len.** – As you wish, child/young one.

 **Ma halani, ma glandival** – Help me in good faith/believe in me.


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in the update! School and roller derby started back up so I've been so busy! Plus, having an existential crisis almost every week has made me such a pain. Luckily, that's over for now. Thanks for all your patience and support with this story. I promise the next installment won't take nearly as long now that I've got my bearings back for the spring.

 **The Path that Leads Astray**

 **Chapter Five**

* * *

Val Royeaux was by far the glitziest place Hirale had ever seen. Beautifully carved pillars of white and blue stone stood majestically with golden lion statues silently roaring atop them. Music played from within the gates in a light rumble, followed by the melancholy chimes of bells in the distance, and the scent of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted past Hirale's nose.

Bushels of vibrant, green vines poured out of large, finely made clay pots with ridiculous plants, none of which Hirale had ever seen in the wild before, bursting out every which way. The pots encircled perfectly carved shrubs that were twisted into shapes and animals, towering over the stone like trees. In the distance, large statues of Andraste stood; their hands perched on long swords that glimmered in the sunlight.

"Wow…" Hirale breathed, his violet eyes wide and trying to devour every inch of the city. He may not have been a fan of Orlais, but even _he_ couldn't deny the grandiose allure of the capital.

"The city still mourns the loss of the Divine." Cassandra murmured, her eyes wandered up over the city, listening as the soft lull of music played.

A few people were walking out of the city, but they were painfully Orlesian. Each was dressed in glittering, fluffy ruffles; similar to that of Josephine's usual garb, but they wore delicately painted masks over their faces with exaggerated cheekbones and noses. They hid underneath large, extravagant hats with coverings that hid away any possible exposure of the person beneath the artifice.

A twittering couple was approaching their company, but upon seeing them, especially Hirale, they immediately turned heel and booked it back into the city, stammering fearful curses.

"Just a guess, Seeker…" Varric offered with a sideways smirk. "But I think they all know who we are."

"Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric." Cassandra deadpanned.

Hirale twisted his fingers into claws, looming over them creepily before adding, "And here I was hoping for the element of surprise."

Varric snorted and Cassandra rolled her eyes, motioning for them to continue forward. They were just nearing the entrance to the city when an Inquisition scout came jogging up to them.

"My Lord, Herald!" The scout exclaimed, quickly kneeling respectfully to Hirale. The elf sighed loudly.

" _Hirale_." He corrected.

"You're one of Leliana's people." Cassandra observed. "Do you have news?"

"The Chantry mothers and chancellors await you." The scout explained, but frowned as she added, "But so do many templars."

"Well, then it's a good thing I'm not a mage. Isn't the right, Solas?" Hirale observed playfully, glancing over to Solas. The apostate didn't seem the least bit concerned and wasn't about to play with Hirale's snide remarks.

Cassandra asked, "Why are the templars here?"

"People believe the templars will protect them from the Inquisition." The scout replied. She turned and pointed straight through the gates and kept motioning past in the same direction. "They're meeting on the other side of the market. I believe that's where the templars plan to meet you as well."

"Only one thing to do then." Cassandra said reluctantly as she looked over to Hirale. "Shall we?"

"Ladies first." Hirale replied, curtseying for the Seeker. She rolled her eyes at him and looked to the scout.

"Return to Haven. Someone will need to be informed of our delay."

Then the scout was gone.

Given the outside of Val Royeaux was sparkling, it was no surprise that the marketplace was just as grand. Strips of booths were set up, each with fineries Hirale had never dreamed of seeing. The sweet aroma of fresh pastries and cakes wafted around him and the lighthearted melodies of wandering minstrels soaked the air. Despite the lively energy, there were sad whispers of gossip flying around of the Divine's death.

It was a bustle of commotion every which way, but the biggest crowd was collected at the far end of the shops near a wooden stage where a few Chantry mothers and chancellors stood.

"Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!" One of the Chancellors spoke out to the crowd.

Hirale and Cassandra moved through the crowd nonchalantly, while many of the people moved out of their way as they heard the approaching, clanking armor. Solas and Varric stayed back and away from the crowd, hoping to draw less attention to Hirale.

"That is Ser Barris." Cassandra murmured as they came to the front of the crowd. A young man stood next to the Chancellor, quiet and still like a statue. He wore grand templar armor but disregarded the helm as he watched. He had kind eyes that reminded Hirale of Cullen.

The Chancellor continued. "Together, we mourn our Divine! Her beautiful, yet naive heart was silenced by _treachery_!"

Hirale could feel the hostile glares all on him, but he stood with arms crossed and feigned indifference to the slander.

 _How they can scowl with masks on is quite impressive._ Hirale thought for a moment, glancing between the glowers around him and ignoring the hushed whispers twittering in the air.

"You wonder what will become of her murderer! Well, wonder no more!" The woman cast a finger at Hirale and those that hadn't been glaring at him turned to see. "Behold! The so-called Herald of Andraste!"

The elf cleared his throat and added, " _Hirale_."

"-Claiming to rise where our beloved fell!" The woman continued, undeterred. The whispers of the townspeople seemed to grow louder and more belligerent. "We say this is a false prophet!"

 _At least they haven't started calling me 'knife-ear' yet._

"The Maker would send no _elf_ in our hour of need!"

 _Ah, there it is._

"Enough!" Cassandra bellowed, silencing the growing murmurs from the crowd. "We didn't come here to listen to your self-serving lies." Cassandra was glaring at the woman on the platform. "We came here in peace to talk, and _this_ is what you do?"

"It's true." Hirale added. "The Inquisition wants to end this madness before it is too late." He narrowed his eyes on the Chancellor. "We're not interested in clamoring for the Divine's position by shouting nonsense."

There was a loud clamor approaching as the crowd parted to let a group of glowering templars through. Many of them had their helms on, but the leader of them walked proudly without his. He was an older man, his hair silvered by time and his stern face creased with a few wrinkles along his forehead and under his dark eyes. His armor was shimmering, clearly having not seen a minute of battle during the rebellion.

"It is already too late!" The Chancellor declared as she pointed to the oncoming templars. She turned back to the crowd, waving her arms fanatically. "The templars have returned to the Chantry, they will face this Inquisition, and the people will be safe once more!"

Their leader walked past the woman without even glancing at her, as if she were nothing more than dirt to him. One of the templars behind him balled his fist and hit her square in the back of the head, sending her to the ground in a fragile heap. The crowd gasped and the other Chancellors quickly fell to their knees to her aid.

Ser Barris took a step forward to help as well, but the leader of the templars held him back, shaking his head.

"Still yourself, she is beneath us."

Ser Barris glanced between the fallen woman and Cassandra, who had pursed her lips in shocked outrage. Hirale crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at their leader disapprovingly.

"That was unnecessary." Hirale said. "What is the meaning of this?"

Their leader crinkled his nose upon looking over Hirale. "Her claim to authority is an insult, much like your own."

"So, am I about to get punched in the back of the head too?" Hirale barked. "Seeing as you're not above hitting defenseless women, why not an upstart like myself?"

"Not now, Hirale." Cassandra scolded. She walked toward the stairs of the platform where the man was trouncing down. "Lord Seeker Lucius, it's imperative that we speak with-"

" _You_ will not address me." He didn't even look at her.

Cassandra looked more shocked than hurt. She asked, frowning, "Lord Seeker?"

"Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste's chosen?" The Lord Seeker glared dagger at Hirale. "And an _elf_ , no less."

"Is that what I am?" Hirale asked incredulously. "That explains the ears then."

He could hear Varric's snorting chuckle nearby. The Lord Seeker was not amused. He glared back to Cassandra, his nose crinkled in disgust.

"You should be ashamed." The Lord Seeker spat at Cassandra. "You should _all_ be ashamed! The templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mage infestation."

Aydienne's face flickered across Hirale's mind and he immediately snarled at the Lord Seeker, "It's not an infestation, they're _people_."

"It is an infestation that only _we_ are equipped to face." Lord Seeker Lucius insisted sternly, though his face didn't crack in the slightest. "You would leash us and fill our swords with doubt and fear."

He pointed to Cassandra.

" _You_ have failed all of Thedas."

Then the man rounded on Hirale, towering over him but Hirale stood his ground firmly, glaring at the Lord Seeker defiantly.

"If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late." The Lord Seeker sneered at Hirale before venomously adding, "The only destiny that demands respect is _mine._ "

"And what destiny is that?" Hirale remarked as the Lord Seeker turned to leave with his templars. "To make long-winded speeches to people who don't care?"

The Lord Seeker stopped, turning his head to address Hirale. "I came to see what frightens old women so. I see what they fear and it is laughable." He turned away, chuckling lightly as he added, " _Herald of Andraste_."

"It's _Hirale_."

"But my Lord," Ser Barris interjected as the templars began to assemble for their departure. The young templar looked over to Hirale, worried and unsure. "What if he really was sent by the Maker?"

"You are called to a higher purpose." Another templar snapped, waving a finger in Ser Barris' face. "Do not question."

"Ah yes, because you lot are infallible." Hirale remarked, earning a few scowls from the templars.

"I will make the templar order a power that can stand against the Void." The Lord Seeker spoke to Ser Barris. He placed his hands on the young man's shoulders. "We deserve recognition. We deserve independence." His hands fell to his sides and the man looked over Hirale one last time with pure revulsion. "You have shown me nothing; and the Inquisition? _Less_ than nothing."

"Then your expectations won't be difficult to exceed." Hirale said snidely.

"Templars." He turned to his brood, all of which stood upright and to attention. Ser Barris was reluctant to fall into line, but did so without another word. Cassandra frowned at him. "Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection. We march."

The templars left without another word and the crowd of onlookers had dispersed long before. They were left in a busy marketplace gaping at one another in disbelief.

Varric sauntered up to them, adding derisively, "Charming fellow, isn't he?"

"I'm practically swooning." Hirale replied earning a laugh from the dwarf.

"Has Lord Seeker gone mad?" Cassandra exclaimed.

"Do you know him very well?" Hirale asked as he looked over to her curiously.

From what Cassandra had told Hirale about the Seeker Order, they weren't particularly liked a majority of the Templar Order. While the templars were leashed by the Chantry itself, the seekers answered to the Divine directly as an order to pick up the pieces should the templars fail in their duties. They were also known to weed out corruption in the ranks by very _inscrutable_ means. The fact that the Lord Seeker was essentially leading the AWOL templars spoke volumes to the state of things within the Chantry.

"He took over the Seeker Order two years ago, after Lord Seeker Lambert's death." She explained. Her eyes trailed after them as they left through the gates and she frowned deeply. "He was always a descent man, never given to ambition or grandstanding." She raised a suspicious eyebrow. "This is very… bizarre."

"Will he listen to reason?"

"The man I once knew would have, but this…" Cassandra looked at Hirale. " _This_ man gives me doubt."

"Luckily, the templars aren't our _only_ option." Solas added lightly, but it didn't seem to quell Cassandra's mood.

"I wouldn't write them off so quickly." She remarked hastily. "Surely there are some in the Order who have seen what he's become."

"Ser Barris didn't seem entirely convinced." Hirale added with a shrug. "Either way, we should get back to Haven and inform our advisors."

"Good idea, I'm sure they-" Cassandra was cut short by the swift rush of an arrow flying past her. She immediately took out her sword and shield, placing herself in front of Hirale as she glared around for the assassin. "What was that?"

"An arrow?" Hirale said as he pointed to an arrow lodged firmly into the tile, a red envelope securely attached to it with big sloppy letters that read 'Herald-Thingy.' Hirale sighed. "I'm assuming it's for me…"

Cassandra put away her weapon as Hirale took the arrow from the ground and opened the letter. The handwriting was like that of a child, which given the random doodles all over the borders wasn't that far-fetched.

 _People say you're special. I want to help, and I can bring everyone._

 _There's a baddie in Val Royeaux. (Crossed out several times with different spellings.) I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for the Red (big, dramatic red letters) things in the market, the docks, and 'round the cave, (doodles of all three locations and a crude drawing of Hirale finding red envelopes) and maybe you'll meet him first._

 _Bring swords. (Large, sparkly sword doodle.)_

 _Friends of Red Jenny._

"Red… Jenny?" Hirale asked tilting his head.

"It's a sort of back alley organization that was designed to get revenge on nobles." Varric answered. "They're all over Thedas, but they're not really an organization with leadership and rules, just shenanigans."

"Looks like they want to help me. It says there's someone out there ready to hurt me." Hirale said as he folded the envelope and placed it in his pocket.

"At this point, they'll have to stand in line." Varric chortled and Hirale rolled his eyes with a smile. Varric shrugged. "Can't hurt to have the Friends of Red Jenny on your side."

"Do we really have time for this?" Cassandra said, sighing impatiently.

"It'll just take a few minutes." Hirale said as he motioned towards the docks. He added, grinning at Cassandra playfully, "What's the harm in making new friends?"

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

* * *

"While this castle could use a proper decorator, it is much nicer than staying out in the woods." Dorian mentioned to Aydienne as they wandered the hallways of Redcliffe castle.

The walls were covered with various Mabari paintings and small statuettes; a look that Dorian begrudgingly referred to as 'very Ferelden.' There were few windows, so the halls were constantly lit with flaming torches, and the main hall's fireplace was always grandly aflame.

Aydienne and Dorian spent most of their time in the castle itself, as they didn't want to add to the hysteria of the townsfolk nor did they want anyone overhearing Dorian as being Tevinter. They spoke very little about Tevinter since they had been staying in Redcliffe, even though Aydienne was bubbling with more questions for Dorian to answer.

"Not a fan of Mabari hounds?" Aydienne asked as she slipped a finished book back into its place on the shelf.

"Can't say that I am." Dorian murmured as he eyed a woven tapestry hanging from the ceiling. "They're so brutish and loud. And they make the furniture _reek_ of dog stink."

Aydienne chuckled to herself as her fingertips skimmed the row of bookbinding, hoping to land on one of particular interest. Her thoughts began to drift as she glanced over the titles of the tomes, but so far away she barely registered what any of them were about.

It had been a few days since Conner offered his home to them and neither mage seemed to be leaving any time soon. Conner had been so eager to show Aydienne the shops and monuments around Redcliffe that she nearly forgotten why she left her clan to begin with. In truth, she welcomed the distraction more and more every day.

News about the explosion at the Conclave had reached Redcliffe and as far as she knew, no one survived the blast except for someone being called the Herald of Andraste. Every time Aydienne worked up the nerve to leave, she was overcome again with fearful thoughts of what could have happened to Hirale.

It was unlikely he was still at the temple if he _were_ alive, and if he _weren't_ …

 _He has to be okay…_

 _It's Hirale…_

 _But what if he isn't?_

 _What if he's gone?_

She'd rather not think of it.

"You know, you don't _have_ to stay." Dorian said finally, breaking Aydienne out of her trace. She looked over at him, somewhat stunned. He hadn't looked at her when he said it. He was flipping through a text of Ferelden royal lineage. "I know you have to find your friend and at this rate, I'm not sure how long Felix is going to take to get here."

Aydienne studied Dorian's face for a moment, deciding her words before finally saying, "Thank you, Dorian…"

Dorian raised an eyebrow, closing the book in his hands as he looked at her. "I take it from your tone, you don't want to leave?"

"No, I do. I _should_." Aydienne stammered.

Dorian continued to look at her with a baffled expression. She sighed and leaned up against the wall as she crossed her arms over her chest, looking at Dorian with a flustered face. The hallway was quiet. Other than the occasional glimpse of a servant scurrying in a nearby room, but they kept their voices low regardless.

"It's just… I keep hearing things around the city about what happened at the Conclave. Everyone says that no one survived the blast, save this Herald of Andraste person…" Aydienne could feel her chest ache and the edges of her eyes burn, threatening the onslaught of tears. "I'm worried that if I go, I won't find him."

What's more, Aydienne feared what would become of her if she _did_ find him. While she hadn't spent much time away from her clan in the few weeks looking for him, Aydienne definitely felt happier being out and away from them for a change.

Hirale had always been content to stay within their clan, wandering the land and preserving what little knowledge they managed to hold onto of their ancient history, but Aydienne felt differently. She wanted to see the world on her own terms and experience all its wonders, but she was expected to remain with Clan Lavellan as their Keeper.

Her adventuring days would be over before they even began.

That was to say, _if_ she was even allowed back into their clan. Aris' warning hadn't left her since the day she stepped foot out of their camp.

" _If you leave, Sael, we will not welcome you back."_

Hirale was all she had left.

"You'll never know if you don't look." Dorian offered lightly. "The uncertainty makes it worse, in my opinion. Rumors around Redcliffe are not entirely accurate and they can feed into our worst fears." Dorian stepped closer to Aydienne, placing his hands on her shoulders and smiling at her kindly.

"You should go to the temple and look for him. Try that town just down the way from it, he may be staying there." Dorian suggested. His fingers squeezed her shoulders encouragingly. "You left your clan for a reason and you should see this through."

Aydienne stared up at Dorian. His eyes glittered with kindness and affection that warmed her heart and chased away the jittering fears in the pit of her stomach. His hands felt sturdy and heavy on her shoulders, but offered a soft comfort she had only ever felt from Hirale.

"You're right." Aydienne smiled and wrapped her arms around Dorian in a hug.

"I'm _always_ right." He hugged her tightly back before they returned to their perusing.

"How can you be both devilishly handsome and smart?" Aydienne asked, raising a playful eyebrow his way.

Dorian grinned. "The Maker broke all the rules when he made me."

* * *

The final note from Red Jenny gave directions to a secluded courtyard and told Hirale to be there much later in the evening. While running around the marketplace, another messenger had given Hirale an invitation to Madame Vivienne's salon that would be taking place near sunset.

Luckily, the directions of the courtyard seemed to be close enough to Madame Vivienne's chateau, so it would be an easy enough task to handle both of them quickly before they headed back to Haven. Cassandra wasn't thrilled, not that it was much of a surprise to Hirale, and she kept insisting they return to inform the advisors of their meeting with the chancellors, despite as terrible as it had been.

As they roamed the streets, making their way to the chateau, Cassandra chided on an on about the importance of a quick return, though Hirale was more distracted by the encounter they had at the gates a few hours before.

Before they were to exit the city to meet with Leliana's scouts back at camp on the outskirts of the capital, the Grand Enchanter, Fiona, and leader of the mage rebellion confronted them.

" _If I might have a moment of your time."_

 _Hirale turned to see an older, elven woman walking toward him. Her face was barren, like so many elves Hirale had seen along this adventure, and she was pale with rosy lips. She wore impressive deep blue robes with golden accents and fluffy, feathered trim. She was clearly from the Circle._

" _Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra asked, glancing over the mage curiously._

 _Solas stepped forward, eyeing her as well. "Leader of the mage rebellion. Is it not dangerous for you to be here?"_

" _I heard of this gathering." The Grand Enchanter replied. She looked over to Hirale with old, studious eyes. "And I wanted to see the fabled 'Herald of Andraste' with my own eyes."_

" _Well, here I am." Hirale stated; casting his arms up around his sides unceremoniously and looking positively annoyed._

 _They stared at each other for a few moments before she finally spoke again. "If it's help with the Breach you seek, perhaps my people are the wiser option."_

" _Surprise, the mages don't want us to side with the templars!" Hirale remarked. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a suspicious eyebrow at the woman. "You didn't want to speak to us before, what changed?"_

" _Now I have seen what you are and what the Chantry for what it is." She explained. "Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe. Come, meet with the mages." She offered a smile and her hand to shake, but Hirale just stood staring at it, unmoving. "An alliance could be formed, perhaps?"_

 _An alliance was something important for him to consider, but Hirale had spent little time thinking of which side he felt more inclined to throw his support into. While the mages had excellent reasons for breaking away from the Chantry, so did the templars; but either way, they were still part of the human world as far as Hirale was concerned and he had little interest in their politics despite being forced into them._

 _On the other hand, out of the two sides, the mages were the only ones offering an invitation for alliance. Lord Seeker Lucius had made his stance clear to Hirale in courtyard and the elf was not about to beg that man for help._

" _We'll have to discuss it with our advisors back in Haven." Hirale answered simply, nodding over to Cassandra who also nodded in agreement._

"Understood." Grand Enchanter Fiona nodded and strode past them to leave with a few mages that stood at the end of the bridge. She paused for a moment, turning her face back to him as she added, "I hope to see you there, Lord Herald."

" _It's just Hirale." He replied._

Sunset arrived quickly enough and they wandered the residential estates looking for Madame Vivienne's salon. With the white paint and blue trim, all the manors in Val Royeaux looked exactly the same to Hirale. If it hadn't been for the manservant waiting patiently outside the mansion to welcome the guests, Hirale never would have found it.

"Follow me, Master Lavellan." The man said with a bow.

"Oh, _Master_ Lavellan? Fancy." Hirale chuckled as he followed the manservant. He was nearly at the front door when he turned to see that none of his companions were following after him. He frowned. "Aren't you coming?"

"It's probably best we stay out here." Varric suggested, glancing over to Solas and Cassandra.

"You're just going to let me go inside… by _myself_?" Hirale asked.

"Orlesians are not fans elves," Solas explained.

"Or dwarves." Varric added.

"Indeed." Solas decided quickly as he stood with his hands folded together in front of him. "It'd be best if Varric and I stay out here, lest we offend the party goers."

"Better one elf than two, I guess." Hirale agreed reluctantly, then he glanced to Cassandra, nodding at her with a raised eyebrow. "What about you, Cassandra?"

"It is unlikely to be an assassination…" Cassandra stammered. "And I am ill equipped to handle an Orlesian party."

While the Seeker was not the eloquent wordsmith that Varric was, Hirale hadn't seen her struggling for an excuse to get out of something. Then again, heavy armor and bloodied swords and shields weren't popular attire for Orlesian salons.

"And _I'm_ more equipped?" Hirale snorted, but Cassandra pursed her lips and shooed him away.

"This was _your_ idea in the first place." Cassandra scolded. " _I_ told you we should have left already."

He rolled his eyes and looked back to the door. The manservant was holding it open and he could see the bustling of party guests socializing and laughing loudly inside.

He gulped. "Fine, fine… I'll brave the Orlesians myself."

The manservant escorted Hirale to the foyer before quickly scurrying back outside to await any other guests. Hirale walked up the steps into a great hall, outlined in grand staircases made of marble and dark blue and alabaster tile that decorated the floor of every platform. There was a large fountain in the center of the room that glowed green and the lights were dimmed to an intimate blush.

It looked even grander than the entrance to Val Royeaux, if that were even possible.

"Master Lavellan, on behalf of the Inquisition." Another servant announced; his arms stretched out over a slip of parchment that rolled back together as he stood graciously at the entrance.

Hirale couldn't help but feel the eyes of the other guests on him as he spun around, gazing around at the magnificence of the room. He walked toward the fountain, his eyes searching for anyone who could possibly be the hostess of the party, but everyone was in masks.

 _Surprise…_

"A pleasure, ser." A man said as Hirale approached.

The man was covered head to toe; even the mustache on his mask shadowed his mouth so Hirale could barely tell it was he who was speaking. He wore a silly hat that looked like fabric had been wrapped around two large loaves of bread and placed upon his head.

Next to him was a woman, similar in modesty, with only the tip of her nose peering out from underneath her mask as the frilly, white ruff around her neck reached well up to her earlobes.

"We so rarely have a chance to meet anyone new." The man continued as he surveyed the party, swirling the wine in his glass. "Seeing the same faces at these parties get so boring."

"Yeah… the same faces…" Hirale glanced around, unable to distinguish one shimmering mask from the next. All the ruffles looked the same, similar hues and elaborate patterns echoing the latest fashion trends from person to person. Hirale found them lovely, but his distain for Orlesian frivolity outweighed his awe.

"So, are you a guest of Madame de Fer or are you here for Duke Bastien?"

"I'm not familiar with either of them." Hirale replied honestly. He took out his invitation and looked it over, but it was Enchanter Vivienne that signed it.

 _You are cordially invited to attend my salon held at the Chateau of Duke Bastien de Ghislain._

 _Yours,_

 _Lady Vivienne_

 _First Enchanter of Montsimmard_

 _Enchanter to the Imperial Court_

"I was invited here by Lady Vivienne." Hirale answered, looking back up to the two masked people standing in front of him.

"Oh, that _is_ Madame de Fer." The man explained kindly. If he weren't wearing a mask, Hirale would have seen him smiling. "It's a fond nickname the court has given Lady Vivienne."

"I've heard she finds it amusing." The woman twittered, fidgeting with the lace lining on her bodice as she eyed Hirale peculiarly.

Hirale was not versed in the Orlesian tongue, no matter how hard Aydienne tried to explain the linguistics to him. He asked, "And what does it mean?"

"Lady of Iron." The man replied simply.

Hirale made a face, understanding why a mask would be nice in this situation. "Sounds intimidating."

The man waved a hand and said, "Oh, Madam de Fer is quite agreeable as long as you remain on her good side."

"Are you here on business?" The woman finally said. She released the lace from her bodice, eager to ask the famous Herald of Andraste questions. "I have heard the most curious tales of you! I cannot imagine half of them are true."

Hirale raised an eyebrow. "What have you heard of me?"

Part of him didn't care what the snobby nobles of Orlais were saying about him, but another part, a much larger part of him than he'd rather admit, was curious.

"Some say that when the Veil opened, Andraste herself delivered you from the Fade!" She chirped on and on about outlandish tales of Hirale's exploits, a few true but incredibly fabricated while others were bizarre works of fiction.

Hirale smiled at the woman. "Everything you've heard: _completely true._ "

"Better and better!" The woman clapped excitedly, smiling from behind the ruffled collar blooming around her neck. "The Inquisition should attend more of these parties."

"The Inquisition! What a load of _pig shit_!" Came a rancorous drawl from behind Hirale.

He turned to see a man, dressed head to toe in more Orlesian nonsense. He wore a puffed, deflated hat and a mask with a long, pointed nose. He was almost as indistinguishable as the others at the party, but he had an offended air about him that was palpable.

"Washed up sisters and crazed seekers? No one can take them seriously." The man sauntered up to Hirale smugly, though how it was possible to maintain a smug air behind an unreadable mask was quite impressive.

"Everyone knows it's just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power." The man waved a contemptuous hand at Hirale as he circled around him, placing himself in front of the elf. "What other reason would they pawn an elf off as the holy Herald of Andraste? A _Dalish_ no less!"

Hirale's ears flattened and he stifled the urge to lunge his battle-axe around at the man. "I've never made any claims to holiness… What's your point?"

"In front of all these people, you admit to being a usurper?" The man practically laughed.

"Quit putting words in my mouth." Hirale was losing his patience with this. It was clear by the twitching in his left eyebrow and his narrowed eyes. "I don't claim to be the Herald of Andraste, I'm only looking to help the Inquisition restore order."

"Of _course_ you are." The man twiddled his hand presumptuously. "And I'm sure you need an army for that." He took a few steps toward Hirale so he was towering over him and shoved a pointed finger into the chest of Hirale's armor. "We know what your 'Inquisition' truly is. If you were a man of honor, you'd answer the charges."

Before Hirale could respond, a rush of cold burst around the man and he stood frozen in place. He looked around frantically, as his eyes were the only things able to move underneath so much ice. Hirale took a few steps back, placing his hand on the halt of his axe, prepared to swing at an incoming enemy.

"My dear Marquis, how unkind of you to use such language in _my_ house… to _my_ guests." A lovely voice called from the stairway.

A regal woman dressed in the most elaborate fabrics ascended the stairs, her palm radiating cold magic. She wore an Orlesian headdress that could rival the horns of a Qunari and looked just as threatening even behind her finely jeweled mask, sparkling with blue opals. Around her neck was an extravagant, shimmering ruffle that burst outward loudly like a peacock on display. Her entire appearance screamed for perfection, from the immaculately pristine tailoring to the paralleled precision of the straps that reached up her chest and rested upon her proud shoulders.

She walked with such a confidence and grace that she appeared to be a deadly viper, willowing through the tall grass of her guests as she came upon her frozen prey.

"You know such rudeness is _intolerable_."

"Madame Vivienne, I humbly beg your pardon!" The Marquis managed to move enough to apologize, but he was still frozen in place.

"You should." She discerned almost flippantly, tsking under her breath. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?" Enchanter Vivienne turned to Hirale, deep brown eyes looking at him consolingly. "My lord, _you're_ the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?"

Hirale mulled over the satisfaction of gutting the man through, but decided against it. Being the Herald of Andraste, he would need to be more tactful in his approach to insult lest he confirm everyone's suspicion of him being a savage, Dalish elf.

"This man doesn't interest me in the slightest." Hirale's eyes studied the ice sculpture of a man steadily, stone cold to emphasize his insignificance. He waved a hand indifferently. "Do with him what you will."

The enchanter grinned and snapped her fingers. The cold disappeared around the Marquis, who stumbled upon being released, coughing and shivering. Madame Vivienne cocked a hip out sassily, resting her chin in a judgmental palm while looking over the Marquis disapprovingly.

"Poor Marquis, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Ferelden dog lord." The Enchanter started, her voice playful. "And all dressed up in your Aunt Solange's doublet. Didn't she give you that to wear for the Grand Tourney?"

The Marquis frowned.

Madame Vivienne continued enthusiastically. "To think, all the brilliant chevaliers who will actually be competing left for Markham this morning… Yet you remain here."

She walked two slender fingers alongside his arm and to his shoulder, quickly poking his nose with delight. It was like a cat playing with her cowering prey.

"Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by grandly defeating the Herald of Andraste in a public duel?" She breathed a laugh. "Or did you think his axe would end the shame of living in agonizing failure?"

The woman stabbed a sharp nail into the man's back, earning a gasp of surprise. She grinned and waved her hand at the man dismissively, like shooing a fly.

"Now run along, my dear." She said and the man scampered off. She called out to him, smiling widely, "And do give my regards to your aunt!"

 _That was different…_ Hirale thought as the enchanter turned to look at him, her grin still fresh on her face.

"I'm delighted you could attend this little gathering. I've _so_ wanted to meet you." Lady Vivienne said happily, motioning Hirale to follow her away through another hallway, away from the bustle of the party.

The only light down the hallway was from that of the full moon radiating in through the long windows and a few small torches that outlined closed doorways. The enchanter stopped at a window that was left open, overseeing the courtyard entrance where Hirale's companions were perched, ready and waiting. The moonlight gleamed atop floating floral fuzz as it wafted through the window like soft, little stars.

Lady Vivienne turned to Hirale. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Madame Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court."

"Charmed, Lady Vivienne." Hirale was unsure if he was expected to courtesy, but then again he wasn't entirely sure how one curtsied to begin with. "My name is Hirale."

"Well met. Ah, but I didn't invite you to the chateau for pleasantries." The enchanter got straight to business. "With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles. Only the Inquisition might restore sanity and order to our frightened people." Hirale nodded as he listened to her, his arms crossed over his chest. "As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause."

"Forgive my rudeness, Lady Vivienne, but why would a noble of the Orlesian Imperial Court want to help the Inquisition?" Hirale asked.

"We seldom have a say in our fate, my dear, I would rather be at the forefront than allow others to choose for me."

"Then will you be sending forces to join us in Haven? Or perhaps funding?" Hirale asked, unsure exactly how the woman wished to help. While he was grateful for her intervention with the Marquis, casting a few winters' breath spells was hardly enough to qualify her as a formidable ally.

"I shall go myself." Lady Vivienne answered as a matter-of-factly. "I am more than capable of combat magic and I am the best I can offer you in this time of crisis."

Hirale was skeptical, but he figured the enchanter would prove herself when the time came so he dropped it. Instead he asked, "You say you lead the last of the loyal mages. Loyal to whom exactly?"

"To the people of _Thedas_ , of course." She replied as if it were obvious. "We have not forgotten the commandment, as some may have, that magic exists to serve man." Hirale hadn't expected to find a mage still loyal to the Circle, especially not after his encounters with them throughout the Hinterlands. "I support any effort to restore such order."

 _Another mage couldn't hurt…_ Hirale thought. Currently, there were very few mages within the Inquisition and if he were considering the alliance from earlier, he would have to be forthcoming.

Hirale held out his hand. "The Inquisition will be happy to have you, Lady Vivienne."

The Enchanter smiled grandly at him, her eyes glittering excitedly almost rivaling her shimmering mask. She took his hand in hers and shook it in agreement. "Great things are beginning, my dear. I can promise you that."

* * *

Conner was seeing his uncle off, as the Arl was headed to Denerim to speak with King Alistair and Queen Anora over the mages staying in Redcliffe. Since the rebellion, Conner had returned to stay with his uncle in Redcliffe castle, but the Arl was busier than ever trying to manage the flow of mages and refugees into the city. While trade benefitted greatly from their coin, the mages were overstaying their welcome tenfold. Many of the townspeople found their occupation unnerving.

It was nearly noon by the time Aydienne and Dorian found him as they perused the shops to stock up Aydienne's pack before she left.

"You're leaving already?" Conner asked frowning when they told him.

"I have… matters to take care of at the temple." Aydienne replied carefully, glancing to Dorian. They still hadn't told Conner about Dorian being from Tevinter, or about Aydienne's search for Hirale. "I shouldn't keep prolonging them."

Conner looked back and forth between the two of them as they headed towards the main gates. "What about your friend, Felix?"

Aydienne opened her mouth to respond, but couldn't think of anything to say so Dorian quickly cut in.

"We'll meet up with her once he finally arrives." Dorian threw a charming smile Conner's way as he added, "If you don't mind me staying in the castle while I wait for him?"

"Oh, of course not." Conner answered; though it was clear he was disappointed Aydienne was leaving and not Dorian.

They walked in relative quiet up the main trail, except a few minor musings Dorian felt obligated to share on the austere appearance of the city and its people. Occasionally, Aydienne nudged him to keep him from being too Tevinter in front of Conner and Dorian would begin talking about magical theory instead.

As they neared the hill, Aydienne could sense the Fade closer around her. The energy of the spirits danced around her more presently and she could feel her mana surge through her body in excitement.

"Do you sense that?" Aydienne asked Dorian, her ears twitching.

Dorian nodded and added, "The Veil feels so much weaker here."

They could hear distant shouting coming from the gates and they exchanged worried looks.

"Something's not right." Conner said as he took off toward the top of the hill.

As they approached, there was a glowing, green rift spewing demons just outside the gates. Guards battled against the demons ferociously, but more and more were coming out of the portals.

"D-demons?" Conner practically shouted, his voice shaking. He didn't have a staff of his own and he stood awkwardly, his face pale and his hands trembling.

"That wasn't there when we entered the city." Dorian said as he grabbed his staff. It began to charge with fire as he gripped it tightly. "Where do you suppose it came from?"

"Perhaps rifts are still opening even though the Breach seems settled?" Conner offered.

"We can theorize later! We need to help the guards!" Aydienne exclaimed as she dropped her pack to the ground and flung her staff around in front of her, sending a blast of energy at a wisp encircling a fallen guardsman.

Dorian tumbled forward, barely dodging a flurry of magical energy the wisps were sending at him. He swung his hand up in a sweeping motion that brought flames up through the cracks of the ground and charred the collective wisps.

Conner tried to send bouts of magic toward a sylvan, but it only made the beast turn around and switch its gaze to him. Conner took a few steps back, fumbling over his own feet to the ground when the demon roared at him.

"Maker, no!" Conner yelped in a panic.

Aydienne shot a string of lightning at the large sylvan approaching Conner, wrapping it around the demon's ankles like rope and she gave a strong jerk. The sylvan toppled down, flailing and scratching at the ground around it while being charred by the electrical waves pulsating around it. The demon cried in agony as the electricity lit its wooden limbs aflame.

Suddenly, Aydienne was thrown off her feet by another sylvan bursting from the ground. It loomed over her, screeching a horrible sound that left her on the ground, writhing in pain. Dorian cast a flame onto the demon, interrupting its dreadful song as it began to catch fire.

The sylvan charged at Aydienne, swinging its arms wildly in a violent frenzy. Aydienne rolled out of the way, tumbling straight into one of the flickering, green circles on the ground.

Everything in the circle slowed, even as she fell onto the ground she could feel time decelerating down around her. Her mind was still sharp though her body was sloth, and she could see an incoming sylvan swing its claws at her absurdly fast from outside of the circle.

Conner quickly grabbed Aydienne out of the circle, pulling her back to real time and just out of the way of the sylvan, which Dorian blew away with a powerful mind blast.

"They just keep coming! We can't keep fighting them!" Conner insisted as guards continued to fight a fruitless battle. "We need to get out of here!"

Conner was right, there were too many demons to keep fighting and without any means to close the rift they would continue to pour out. But they couldn't just abandon Redcliffe.

"We need everyone to fall back to the city." Aydienne replied, pulling her arm away from him. "We can set up wards to protect them until we can find a solution for the rift."

"How do you know that it'll work?"

"Trust me, I've done it before." Aydienne assured as they quickly helped a few fallen guards to their feet. "Just help everyone back." Aydienne turned to Dorian with a nod. "Keep them off me."

Aydienne spun around and began whispering a chant to focus herself as Dorian kept any surrounding demons at bay. Swarms of wisps sent waves of magical energy at Aydienne, luckily Dorian had cast a small, albeit an amateur barrier down on both of them so she barely felt the impact. Dorian quickly switched back to combat magic, a discipline he was more accustomed to than barriers or defensive magic, and made short work of the wisps in a flurry of flame.

The wards began to wind up from the grass in bright green energy and began to solidify into a barrier like before. It was a few minutes before the barrier was complete and as Aydienne stood up, she stumbled back from exhaustion, all her mana drained. Dorian caught her and helped her steady herself.

"Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine." Aydienne assured as she eyed her handy work. The circles radiated energy whenever a demon would step too close, shooting them back with a crackle if they touched it. Then the wards would fade calmly away as they twisted up into the sky, well above the reach of the demons. "It's just a larger barrier than I've had to use before."

"You are _amazing_." Conner gushed, but Aydienne hadn't heard as she was eyeing the circles of energy radiating along the ground near the rift. The rift she and Dorian had seen before spewed chains of energy that would teleport demons into their world, but none seemed to have the ability to slow time like these did.

"Did you see that?" Dorian asked excitedly, beaming at Aydienne in boyish wonder. "The rift was distorting time around the portals, slowing everything down. It's unlike anything I've ever seen."

"Is this a new trick from the Breach?" Aydienne asked, meeting Dorian's gaze. He turned serious. All boyish glitter faded.

"I'm not sure." Dorian answered. "It seems unlikely it would continue to make more rifts after the Breach has been somewhat stable for the past couple weeks."

Aydienne gazed up at the sky at the Breach. It had been calm for a while now, and nothing about it seemed to indicate more rifts would appear from it; then again, it wasn't a widely studied phenomenon so it was anyone's guess.

"But luckily your wards are working just as well as they did on the last one." Dorian remarked. He looked over to Aydienne, who was frowning as she glared at the demons pacing in front of the wards, growling at them threateningly. "Though, I suppose this means you're not going to be leaving any time soon."

Aydienne glanced at the gate as the guards began to close the doorway as an added defense to the city. Despite herself, a wave of relief washed over her, but she couldn't help but feel something unsettling in the pit of her stomach.

 _Something's up…_

"No." She replied finally, forcing a reluctant smile to both Conner and Dorian. "I suppose not."

* * *

"The Inquisition's Herald!" A man shouted upon seeing Hirale and company.

"Well, they know who I work for, at least." Hirale laughed as the men scampered away. "Still wish they'd get the name right though."

Varric chuckled from behind him and they took off after them in the dark alley. These men were by no means stealthy, but by how easily they were dispatched, Hirale and Cassandra assumed they were just decoys. A grand doorway loomed over Hirale, barely cracked open and beckoning for them to carry on further.

Hirale pushed open the door and a burst of flame blew past him, leaving the door singed, before another one was sent flying at him, which he quickly dodged.

"Herald of Andraste!" A man exclaimed.

" _Hirale_." Varric and Hirale corrected in unison.

The man stood in the center of the large, open alley. He wore the same clothes as many of the Orlesians he had seen at Madam De Fer's party, but Hirale didn't recognize him in the least. Though, to Hirale all Orlesians looked the same in their ridiculous garb.

"How much did you expend to discover me?" The man continued. Hirale stared at the man. "It must have weakened the Inquisition immeasurably!"

Hirale blinked a few more times in silence before finally saying, "I have no idea who you are."

"You don't fool me!" The strange man declared, extravagantly waving his arms around him for dramatic effect. "I'm too important for this to be an accident!"

"Ugh, Orlesians…" Hirale muttered, resting the head of his axe on the ground as the man prattled on.

"My efforts will survive in victories against you elsewhere!"

There was a loud crash and a juicy groan from one of the guards as he fell to the ground, an arrow planted firmly between his shoulder blades. Above him stood a raggedy elven woman with an arrow pulled back on her bow and aimed directly at the chattering noble.

"Just say ' _what!_ '" The woman said.

The man sputtered angrily, "What is the-"

Before the man could finish his sentence, an arrow lodged itself square into his right eye and he fell to the ground in a dead heap. The woman groaned loudly, making a disgusted face as she rounded the body, eyeing her handy work.

"Squishy one." She looked up at Hirale excitedly. "But you heard me, right? ' _Just say what?_ ' Rich tits always try for more than they deserve." She pulled out the arrow from the dead body's face, wiping the blood off on her plaidweave leggings and placing the arrow back in its holster with the others. "Blah blah blah! Obey me! Arrow in my face!"

Cassandra and Varric exchanged looks and Hirale gaped at the woman as she turned back to him. She was definitely not Dalish, if the lack of vallaslin hadn't given it away the crude mash up of fabrics she had for clothing had. Her blonde hair was light and faded, chopped crudely into jagged pieces to keep out of her face. She had rounded cheeks and large, pink lips that seemed to be stuck in a smug grin.

"So you followed the notes well enough. Glad to see you're…" Upon really looking at Hirale she made a disgusted, disappointed frown. Hirale was taken aback. " _Annnd_ you're an elf."

Hirale frowned and pointed at her ears. "You're an elf too…"

She looked Hirale up and down with an unbecoming look of revulsion. "Well, hope you're not too elfy."

" _Too elfy_?" Hirale repeated.

"But it's all good, innit?" The strange woman continued without paying attention to Hirale's comment. "The _important_ thing is: you glow? You're the Herald thingie."

"Hirale, actually." He corrected, ears flat and annoyed.

"You killed him before we could question him!" Cassandra stated, looking over the woman grumpily.

"I killed him before he could shout magic!" She explained quickly, as though it was the only explanation she needed. Cassandra and Hirale made a face at one another. "What? My people said the Inquisition would want him dead." She pointed over to him with a shrug. "So see? He's dead."

"Your people?" Hirale asked, ears twitching curiously. "Do you mean elves?"

She laughed at Hirale, who scowled. "No. I mean, _people_ -people." She paced back and forth for a quick moment. "Name's Sera, this is cover. Get round it."

Hirale glanced at Cassandra, who looked utterly confused. "Get round…"

"As for reinforcements, don't worry." The odd rogue continued, her words sounding just as scattered as her thoughts. "Someone tipped me their equipment shed." Sera grinned widely, sniggering as she added, "They've got no breeches!"

There were shouts from down the alley as more men came rushing out, swords and daggers ready for a fight. Hirale pulled his axe around in front of him, blocking incoming arrows as they flew at him and Cassandra.

"Why didn't you take their weapons?" Hirale growled at Sera.

"Coz they've got no breeches!" Sera cackled, as she shot off arrows every which way at the incoming men. She disappeared into a burst of smoke. Hirale growled again and swung at the men charging him with swinging swords.

Cassandra slammed her shield into a rogue that had been lurking behind Hirale and Solas froze him instantly with a quick gust of winters' breath. Bianca was firing at full speed, shooting down anyone that got too close to them.

Hirale burst forward, swinging his axe harshly against a couple enemies and sending them into a nearby pillar with incredible ease. More arrows flew past him, barely scathing him before he could dodge.

Sera erupted into sight up on a platform, smoke billowing around her as she poised five arrows onto her bow and shot them straight up into the air in a flurry. The arrows crashed down on the last of the men, leaving them bloodied heaps in front of Hirale and Cassandra.

Once the fighting had died down and all the enemies had been slain, they regrouped back at the entrance of the alleyway where Sera was waiting for them.

"Friends really come through with that tip!" Sera said before doubling over in a fit of giggles. "No breeches!" She cleared her throat and looked back at Hirale up and down. "So Herald of Andraste-"

" _Hirale._ "

"Whatever." Sera waved a dismissive hand before placing it on her hip, looking him up and down grinningly. "You're a strange one, but I'd like to join."

"All we know about you and your little group is that we followed a random trail into a trap." Cassandra remarked.

"What trap?" Sera looked genuinely confused. Her eyebrows furrowed as she frowned at Cassandra. "You knocked, he crapped! It's…" She sighed, pacing around back and forth. "Look, it's like this: I sent you a note to look for hidden stuff sent by my friends. The Friends of Red Jenny." She pointed to herself. "That's me!" She paused before adding, "Well, I'm one. So is a fence in Montfort… some woman in Kirkwall… There were three in Starkhaven… brothers, I think."

"Is there a point to this rambling?" Cassandra asked.

Sera made a face at the Seeker.

"It's just a name, yeah? It let's little people, 'friends,' be part of something while they stick it to nobles they hate." Sera said as she made a crude shoving motion. Cassandra made a disgusted noise. "So here, in your face, I'm Sera. 'The Friends of Red Jenny' are sort of out there. I used them to help you." She tapped the arrows in her quiver. "Plus arrows."

"The Inquisition already has spies." Hirale stated abruptly, thoroughly unimpressed by the woman standing before him. "Can you add to that?"

"Here's how it is," Sera started, pointing to Hirale. "You _important_ people are up here, shoving your coos around, 'blah blah blah… I'll crush you! I'll crush you!'"

Hirale and company stared at her as she made lewd kissing motions with her fists. "'Oh, crush you…'" After a few seconds of obscene moaning, she cleared her throat and continued to explain as she waved her arms around this way and that.

She cleared her throat and continued waving her arms this way and that as she explained everything, "Then you've got cloaks and spy-kings. Like this tit." She kicked the dead Orlesian mage from earlier. "Or was he one of the little knives all serious with his… little knife." She shrugged and added, "All those secrets, and what gave him up? Some houseboy who didn't know shite, but knew a bad person when he saw 'em."

Hirale raised an eyebrow. "So…"

"So no, I'm not all knifey shivdark, all hidden… but if you don't listen down here, you risk loosing your breeches." Sera said as she motioned to a sack behind her, clearly where she had stashed the stolen breeches. "Like those guards! I stole their…" She shook her head again, refocusing her attention back to her original point. "Look, do you need people or not? I want everything back to normal… like you?"

"Absolutely no-"

" _Hirale_ ," Varric said, putting his hand on the elf's shoulder. Hirale looked at him, annoyed. "She could help. Did you see what she did to most of those men?"

Hirale glanced around at the dead bodies. Most of them had an arrow through the skull, courtesy of Sera. It couldn't be denied she was a good shot, and it wasn't entirely up to Hirale who stayed as part of the Inquisition; if it were, Solas would have already been kicked out.

"Cassandra?" Hirale asked, glancing to the Seeker who was just as miffed by this newfound ally as he was.

" _Fine_." Cassandra rolled her eyes back to Sera, looking her up and down unenthusiastically. "You're in."

Sera beamed at them. " _Brilliant_!"

* * *

It took nearly a day for them to reach Haven after leaving the capital. By the time they had arrived, it was nearly nightfall. Once they passed through the gates, Cassandra and Hirale immediately went back to the Chantry, eager to get away from Sera and Vivienne's bickering. The two were completely different from one another in every way feasible and spent the entirety of the trek to Haven taking shots at one another. Initially, it was hilarious, but it was starting to grate on the nerves.

"It's good you've returned." Josephine said as walked out of her office, uncharacteristically leaving her clipboard of papers behind. "We heard of your encounter."

Cassandra looked at Josephine incredulously. "You heard?"

"My agents in the city sent word ahead." Leliana said as she and Cullen exited the war room to join them. She smiled at Cassandra as if it were obvious. "Of course."

" _Of course_." Cassandra replied, rolling her eyes.

"It's a shame the templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital." Cullen stated, getting down to business. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking positively disturbed. "Is the Lord Seeker mad?"

"At least we know the Chantry is no longer a threat." Hirale offered, though he didn't feel eased by it. "And it gave us a pretty good idea of where both sides stand with the Inquisition."

"Grand Enchanter Fiona approached us and extended an invitation for us to meet with the mages in Redcliffe." Cassandra explained to the advisors. "Lord Seeker Lucius, on the other hand, doesn't seem at all interested in aligning with us."

"He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what? My reports have been… very odd." Leliana responded; hands on her hips and her lips curved in a pointed frown.

"We must look into it." Cullen insisted immediately. "I'm certain not everyone in the Order will support the Lord Seeker."

"Or Hirale could simply go meet with the mages in Redcliffe, instead…" Josephine started, but Cullen interrupted her.

"You think the mage rebellion is more united?" Cullen spun around, gaping at Josephine as if she were mad. "It could be ten times worse!"

Hirale chuckled. "Your templar is showing again."

"I… I'm just concerned…" Cullen began, red in the face.

Hirale waved his hand and said, "We shouldn't bicker about this and just make a decision." The three advisors looked amongst one another quietly.

Cassandra chimed in, nodding. "I agree."

"We shouldn't discount Redcliffe." Josephine insisted. "The mages may be worth the risk."

Hirale held up a finger. "That's one for the mages."

"They are powerful, Ambassador, but more desperate than you realize." Cassandra added, looking at Josephine sternly.

Hirale held up two fingers on his other hand. "Two for the templars."

"Given how they've been treated even before the war, is it any wonder?" Leliana added. Hirale looked at her and when she nodded to him, he held up a second finger on his first hand.

"Two for the mages then."

Cassandra looked at Hirale expectantly. "Looks like you're the tie breaker."

Every time he thought about the mage plight, he couldn't stop thinking about Aydienne or his Keeper. It wasn't as though he was unsympathetic to it, but Hirale had very little experience with mages outside of Dalish clans, other than the few mages he'd encountered within the Inquisition or fought in the Hinterlands. The lives of Dalish mages seemed much more respected, as they were often the preservers of their culture and history.

Hirale couldn't ignore the damage the mages had done since their rebellion, but the same could be said for the templars as well. But one, undeniable fact was that the mages were willing to negotiate with the Inquisition, while the templars and seekers were not.

"Honestly, it seems the leader of the mages is more willing to meet with us than the templars." Hirale replied finally, keeping his gaze away from Cullen. "I'm not interested in persuading people that already hate my guts, so I say mages."

"Then it's settled." Josephine remarked delightedly as she clapped her hands together. "I'll make preparations for your return to the Hinterlands."

She scurried off to her office without another word. Hirale glanced to Cullen, who in a fit of annoyance, turned heel and stormed away, leaving Hirale feeling like an ass. Cassandra placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him the ex-templar's fit would pass, before she followed after him. Hirale watched them as they exited the Chantry and Leliana cleared her throat after the main door closed.

"A word?" Leliana nodded back to the war room and the two of them entered alone. Once the door closed, she continued, "There have been reports of Grey Wardens disappearing throughout Ferelden. I sent word to Orlais, but it seems they are gone as well."

"That's strange." Hirale replied. "Do you think they're involved?"

"Ordinarily, I would say no. Grey Wardens often keep themselves out of matters that don't pertain to the Blight or fighting darkspawn." Leliana explained as she circled the war table, standing at her usual spot. "But the timing seems too coincidental. And I have been unable to get in contact with any Grey Warden allies of mine… It's suspicious and worrisome."

"You think very highly of them, don't you?" Hirale asked.

Leliana nodded. "I have a strong respect for their order as well as a personal tie of my own." Leliana paused, considering her words before adding, "The only warden I've been able to get in contact with is Harwyn Mahariel."

"The _Hero of Ferelden_?" Hirale gapped.

Harwyn Mahariel was a Dalish hunter from the Sabrae clan long before she had become the Hero of Ferelden. The stories in Thedas say that she found a calling in the Grey Wardens and left her clan for the greater good to fight against the Blight.

It was unlikely that the human version of Harwyn rising to the occasion was anything but fabrication, as it was known how skeptical Harwyn was towards humans. Once she slew the archdemon, the stories spread all throughout Thedas, painting her to be a glimmering light in a sea of blighted darkness, eager to save the day and her prejudice towards humans seemed to be erased from those stories.

Hirale looked at Leliana questionably. "I thought no one could get in touch with her."

"I am one of the few who _can_."

"Didn't Cassandra want her to help with the Inquisition?" Hirale asked, raising an eyebrow at Leliana.

It seemed odd that Leliana would keep this information from Cassandra of all people, but on the other hand, Cassandra wasn't particularly good at taking 'no' for an answer either. There was softness in Leliana's tone that suggested a more personal reason behind keeping Harwyn away from the Inquisition.

"Yes, but Cassandra doesn't know Harwyn the way I do." Leliana explained, slipping her hand into her pocket. "Harwyn would have refused to help a Chantry-based organization out of pure distain for it. As luck would have it, she's handling important matters of her own that take her far away from us for the time being."

"So she would have said 'no' regardless." Hirale concluded, wishing he had been given the same opportunity.

"Indeed, but try explaining that to Cassandra." Leliana replied with a laugh. "When I saw that Grey Wardens were disappearing, I sent her a message. It eased my mind when she replied."

"You have a history with her, don't you?"

"She is always in my thoughts, even when we're far apart. My love is on a quest of her own." Leliana said as she thumbed a worn, rope knot in her hand.

It was a Dalish knot, Hirale could tell by the braid. It was dyed a light, faded green with glittering Ironbark beads in the shape of Halla. He remembered during the spring when all the young, love struck teens of the clan would run around trading them.

"When the Inquisition has no more need of me, I'll return to her side." Leliana said lightly as she looked over the knot. "For good this time. I have lost enough, I will not lose her as well."

It was unusual for Hirale to hear such affection in Leliana's tone, as the spymaster was always dealing with agents and doing the behind-the-scenes dirty work for the Inquisition. She often seemed playful with the other advisors, Cassandra even, but she rarely seemed _soft_.

Hirale was taken aback when Leliana looked up at him, smiling. "You remind me of her sometimes."

"I do?" Hirale replied, surprised. "Because I'm Dalish?"

"Partially, but mostly because when Harwyn had become a Grey Warden, she wanted nothing to do with it." Leliana chuckled lightly, her memories of young Harwyn griping about shemlen as they trudged all across Ferelden. "Many don't know that Harwyn had been infected with the Blight and was drafted into the Wardens without choice."

"I thought they only took those willing…"

"It was either become a Warden or die. To Harwyn, that meant she had no choice in the matter." Leliana answered simply. "Greatness was thrust upon her and she often found herself terrified of the battles and what was expected of her. She was afraid of failing or afraid of losing me." Leliana tucked the braid back into her pocket. "She is still a person with fears and worries of her own… and stories seem to forget that part of her."

The words ached through Hirale as he felt more and more in touch with Harwyn. The Dalish clan knew what happened to her when she left for the Grey Wardens, but it eased his own fears knowing that someone as great as the Hero of Ferelden felt exactly as he did.

"But I did not ask you here to discuss Harwyn." Leliana stated as she pulled out a rolled piece of parchment from her pocket and held it out to him. "A few of my agents reported a Grey Warden by the name of Blackwall in the Hinterlands." Hirale took the map and Leliana continued, "Once you return to meet with the mages, make sure to look for him. I've marked on the map where my agents said they've spotted him."

Hirale eyed the parchment in his hand, and then placed it in his satchel on his hip. He looked at Leliana curiously, almost sympathetically. "Hoping he'll ease your mind?"

"Yes."

"And what if he doesn't?"

Leliana's face hadn't faltered, though Hirale had expected it to. She simply looked at him seriously and said, "Then things may be far worse than we first imagined."

* * *

 _Hirale hadn't seen Aydienne around the camp after what happened at the waterfall. By the next afternoon, he had been stalking around the Keeper's tent to see if she had been studying, hoping to catch her on her way out, but she hadn't been there either. She had yet to be assigned a tent or aravel, so he had no clue where to find her other than the Keeper's tent._

 _"Oh, Hirale." The Keeper breathed, surprised to find him skulking around her tent. "How may I help you?"_

 _"Andaran Atish'an, Keeper." Hirale replied quickly, his eyes darting around behind her to search for the elusive apprentice. "Where's Aydienne?"_

 _The Keeper looked surprised by his interest._

 _"She's off around the edge of the camp." The Keeper said cautiously. "She wanted to have some time to herself as she hasn't felt particularly welcomed." Clearly, by the look on her face and the tone in her voice, the Keeper was well aware of Hirale's vicious words to Aydienne._

 _"Ma serannas, Keeper." Hirale said as he turned heel toward the edge of camp. The Keeper brought her hand to his shoulder, stopping him in place._

 _"Try not to fight with her anymore, Hirale." The Keeper requested. "She is new to this clan and making new friends is difficult." Her hand felt heavy on his shoulder. Her eyes were patient, but pleading. "Be kind."_

 _Hirale didn't answer, but simply nodded to the Keeper. He had no intention of being nice if Aydienne had gone around telling anyone about his secret._

 _He quickly took off toward the edge of camp. It hadn't taken long for him to find Aydienne, perched beneath a large tree with her nose in a book._

 _"You."_

 _Hirale stomped over to Aydienne. She folded the edge of the book's page to save her spot before looking up at Hirale; she raised an eyebrow at the hunter curiously but she looked neither intimidated nor afraid of him._

 _"Who have you told?" He spat._

 _Aydienne's face was blank._

 _"I'm not sure what you mean." She replied slowly, eyeing him as if he were mad._

 _She didn't sound like she was lying, but Hirale didn't buy it._

 _"I know you saw me." Hirale snapped._

 _His fists were balled tightly, prepared to beat the tar out of the mage if she dared to jerk him around for very long. Aydienne's face didn't give any other tells, either she had an excellent poker face or she genuinely hadn't thought of it._

 _"At the waterfall." Hirale added exasperated._

 _Her face washed over with memory and she looked at him with eyes that were far more difficult to read than her facial expression._

 _"Oh, that."_

 _"Yes, that." Hirale said, irritated and trying to stifle his boiling rage. "Who have you told?"_

 _"No one."_

 _"I don't believe you."_

 _"Alright, then." Aydienne shrugged and opened her book, believing the conversation to be done. Hirale snatched the book from her in a fit. She sighed and stared at him crossly. "What?"_

 _Hirale's eyes narrowed and he repeated, "Who did you tell?"_

 _Her glare matched his. "No one."_

 _Hirale snorted. "You expect me to believe that? That you told no one?"_

 _"I don't really expect anything from you, Hirale." Aydienne answered honestly, her eyes shifted to her book and she held out an expectant hand. "Can I have my book back, please?"_

 _He stared at her for a few moments, finally handing over the book as Aydienne twiddled her fingers eagerly. She sat the book down in her lap and opened it back to the page she was on._

 _He stood above her, watching in amazement as she continued reading for a few pages before ultimately saying, "Why wouldn't you tell someone?"_

 _Aydienne sighed, annoyed, and looked up again, placing her hand in her place._

 _"It's not my place to tell your secret, is it?" Her fiery eyes gazed at him as if it were obvious. She sighed again. "Besides, I have little to gain from ruining your reputation with this clan because… as you said, I probably won't last very long here."_

 _"Oh yeah…" Hirale scratched the back of his head sheepishly, biting the inside of his lip. "Ma serannas." Hirale said slowly, frowning before adding, "And, I'm sorry for what I said earlier."_

 _"Don't worry about it." Aydienne dismissed quickly as returned to her book. Hirale stood there, watching her awkwardly before he sighed and turned to leave._

 _He was nearly ten feet away from her when she called out to him._

 _"It must be lonely."_

 _Hirale looked at her, eyebrows raised cautiously. "What must be?"_

 _"Not telling any of your clan."_

 _"The Keeper knows."_

 _"But no one else does." Aydienne added. She looked up at him with a soft, comforting gaze. "You're so close with so many of them, but to fear that letting anyone in just an inch more would ruin that must be frustrating." She paused, as if carefully deciding her next words. "If you need someone to talk to…"_

 _"About that?" Hirale snorted._

 _"About anything." Aydienne clarified firmly. "I would gladly lend you an ear. I have two." She smiled, placing her palms behind her ears._

 _He smiled back, but it quickly faded into a skeptical scowl. "Why would you do that?"_

 _"Because, I know a little bit about feeling apart from those you're supposed to be closest to." Aydienne said, her orange eyes turned melancholy. "My clan didn't want to keep me anymore and if it hadn't been for your Keeper and Felassan, I'd be wandering the forests alone." Her eyes glossed over slightly from burning memory, but she blinked the oncoming tears away. "I may be a part of this clan now, but I surely don't belong here either. It's lonesome, so I understand how you feel."_

 _They stayed there, staring at one another in silence. Hirale decided to speak first, asking with a smirk, "Are you saying we're friends now?"_

 _Aydienne laughed. "Oh Creators, no."  
_

* * *

It was the middle of the night and Aydienne couldn't sleep. The cool quiet of the dusk seeped in as Dorian's soft snores in the nearby bedroom quelled lightly outside the door.

 _He must really enjoy sleeping in an actual bed again._ Aydienne thought briefly.

They had been up well into the night theorizing about the appearance of the rift in front of Redcliffe. Since the afternoon they had seen it, Aydienne and Dorian had visited the entrance a few times to check the wards and study what little they could about it, but still found very little explanation of how it came to be.

It was unlikely that more rifts were appearing, as the Breach itself had been calmed for such a long time since it had first appeared.

She stared up at the ceiling, her stomach churning with dread for a reason she couldn't place. Finally, her mind crept onto Hirale. She worried about Hirale and this postponement made her all the more unsettled. She could feel time running through her fingertips like water. She felt as though time had dried up and her chance to find her friend had been lost.

 _What if he's dead?_

 _No. He has to be okay._ She insisted.

 _It's Hirale._

She finally sat up well after hours of lying awake and wrapped herself with the throw at the foot of the bed, quietly leaving the room. When she came into the main hall, Conner was sitting in one of the large armchairs facing a magnificent flame burning midair. There was a beautiful, mahogany table that stretched across an elaborately stitched rug. Atop the table was a delicate tea set brewing steaming chamomile tea.

Conner seemed lost in his own thoughts, enthralled by the soft flicker the magical flame in front of him. When Aydienne came into the light, Conner looked up at her, surprised but pleased to see her.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No." Aydienne shook her head, pulling the throw over herself more fully. She nodded to him. "You?"

"I rarely sleep anymore." Conner admitted, offering Aydienne a cup of tea. She gladly took it and curled up in the chair across from him. Conner stared into the flame again. "Ever since I was little, after what happened here, I find it harder to sleep."

"Because of the demons?" Aydienne asked, holding the cup of tea in her palms, letting it warm her hands.

Aydienne had very little experience with demons outside of her encounters with the rifts. She had overheard stories from the Circle mages in town, whispering their fears of possession amongst one another as if it could be so easy. Of course, Keeper Deshanna taught Aydienne to be wary of demons and never to make deals with them, but she never outright taught her to _fear_ them.

" _Demons thrive on your fear, child." She could remember the Keeper telling her. "Overcome that fear and you will defeat any demon that comes yours way."_

"Yes." Conner said, still not looking up at her. Aydienne couldn't decide if it was from embarrassment or if he was lost again in his thoughts. "Sometimes when I dream, I see the demons, the death and destruction. And it's me." Conner placed his face in his palms. He gasped back a sob and whimpered out, "It's all _me_."

"Conner…" Aydienne moved from her spot, sitting the tea down on the table before standing next to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her. "You were just a boy. You didn't know. It wasn't you doing those things."

"Wasn't it, though?" "We are not capable of living freely. We are always subject to possession because of our curse and the circles were only trying to protect us as well as the people of Thedas."

"Magic is not a curse." Aydienne insisted; her hands slipped away from his shoulder as she stood up again. "The circles have taught you to fear magic and that itself breeds desperation."

"What would you have us do then?" Conner barked, surprising Aydienne with his tone. "Govern ourselves like those rats in Tevinter?" Aydienne glanced quickly away, down the hallway to the stairs that lead to Dorian, before looking at Conner with a pointed frown.

"What they do in Tevinter is wrong." Conner continued. "We are monsters. _I_ am a monster. We need to be controlled." Conner gazed back to the flame, hypnotized and lost in his own thoughts. "If it wasn't for me…"

Aydienne was never taught to fear her gifts. As an apprentice, a first no less, in her clan she was taught to cultivate her abilities and used her magic often. Magic, to Aydienne, was as essential to her life as the air she breathed.

How anyone could hate and fear it so, was baffling to her.

" _Why are humans so afraid of magic?"_

 _She was barely ten years old when her magic began to culminate. Her original keeper had given her plenty of lessons of how to use it, but Aydienne often found herself asking Felassan more questions about it than anyone else._

 _His opinion was different from her elders she knew in the clan, as Felassan spent most of his time travelling the world alone. He saw wonderful and terrible things, all of which Aydienne dreamed to know more about. Whenever he visited their clan, she clung to him tightly, eager to ask him a sea of questions._

 _Luckily, he was always happy to answer her._

" _They fear what they do not understand." He replied. They walked down a dirt path towards the river that lay just outside her clan's camp. It was summer and the grove smelled of fresh grass and twittered with the soft chirps of birds and animals._

" _But if they studied and practiced, they would understand." Aydienne remarked, opening and closing her palm as electricity bubbled at its center. It was erratic energy, but one Aydienne felt pulse through her like excitement._

" _They do study, in Circles."_

 _She closed her hand and looked up at Felassan who was grinning at her. "What's a 'Circle?'"_

" _It's a tower they keep mages in when they discover their abilities." He replied as they sat down together at the edge of the river. Felassan picked a long, hollowed straw of grass from the river and immediately began to chew on the edge of it. "The Chantry places Circles in every city in order to keep them away from the general public because of what they might do."_

 _Felassan pulled the straw out from his mouth, eyed the chewed bit and then placed it back into the water with a frown._

 _Aydienne watched as the grass was enveloped in water. "Doesn't assuming something bad will happen usually make something bad happen?"_

" _Typically." Felassan answered with a shrug. "It's a cautionary practice they take."_

" _But they've done nothing wrong." Aydienne urged, as though trying to convince Felassan was convincing all of those in the Chantry._

" _You're right, but humans view mages as monsters. As potential weapons, unable to control themselves." Felassan replied calmly. Aydienne frowned and watched the river as it billowed past them._

 _They sat in silence for a few moments before Aydienne finally asked, "Do they ever get to leave? The Circles, I mean."_

" _Some do. Most do not."_

" _Sounds awful."_

" _Quite."_

Only the crackle from the flame was echoing through the room, before Conner sighed heavily. "I apologize. I did not mean to raise my voice to you."

"Conner…"

There was a loud creak from the main door that silenced the room. A woman, dressed in grand Circle robes, came walking in. She was an elven woman and moved with importance, but Aydienne had never seen her before. Conner, on the other hand, looked shocked to see the woman at all.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Conner managed, standing up from his chair and turning toward the door. "How are you back so soon? I thought-"

A bristly woman came sauntering up behind the Grand Enchanter. Her skin was clammy and pale with a faded memory of freckles speckled lightly across. Her blonde eyebrows had long since faded into her skin and just above her right brow was a dark mole, being the only thing dark on her face.

She had pastel yellow hair that was braided neatly into noblewoman rolls. She had a large, bizarre staff latched to her back of a make that neither Aydienne nor Conner had seen before. Her eyes were hungry and cruel, making Aydienne uneasy as she took a step closer to Conner.

 _Something isn't right…_

"Who are-" Conner started, but the woman's nose crinkled with a growl.

"Silence, fool." The woman snarled, revealing a large gap in her two large front teeth. "Do not speak unless spoken to."

"Now, there is no need for such abrasion." The Grand Enchanter spoke, holding up a calming hand that only seemed to annoy the bristly woman behind her. "This is Calpernia, leader of the Venatori mages of Tevinter."

Behind the Tevinter mage drifted in a few men covered head to toe in elaborately crafted leather and metals, the design being blatantly Tevinter. The daggers they held in their fists were long and brutish; they were fashioned with deep ridges along the blade and resembled more of a cleaver than any thin dual-wielding knife Aydienne had ever seen.

Calpernia smirked at Conner as he took a step back. Aydienne glanced sideways down the hall to the stairs where Dorian was sleeping, hoping he wouldn't wake to investigate the commotion. Her hand automatically shifted behind her, but grasped at nothing as she had left her staff in her chambers.

Grand Enchanter Fiona continued, "I have made a deal with Magister Alexius to ensure the victory for the rebel mages here in Redcliffe."

"Are you _mad_?" Conner exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at the Grand Enchanter as he flailed his hands emphatically. "Aligning with Tevinter will only make it harder for everyone to accept us or for anything to return to normal, Grand Enchanter."

Fiona looked remorseful as she added, "I had no choice, Conner."

"What about the Inquisition?" Conner asked. "Weren't you headed to Val Royeaux to meet the Herald of Andraste?"

Grand Enchanter Fiona made a face, as if the thought were just on the edge of her mind but ultimately unattainable. "I… I don't recall that."

"Grand Enchanter, I understand that times are desperate, but this alliance will only make things worse." Conner pleaded.

Aydienne kept her eyes trained on Calpernia. The woman looked itching to fight and she looked more formidable than any of the Circle mages she had seen around Redcliffe. Aydienne's heart was pounding in her eardrum.

"What would you have me do?" The Enchanter remarked, though she wasn't expecting an actual answer.

"Enough talk." Calpernia barked impatiently. "Magister Alexius requires certain _luxuries_ to continue his research." Her eyes narrowed on the two of them. "We are taking the castle for our own."

"You can't do that." Aydienne said sternly, her gaze meeting Calpernia's. "It belongs to Conner and his family. You can't just take it away from him."

Calpernia smiled a toothy grin and crossed her arms over her chest, nodding over to Conner with her chin. "He is more than welcome to join us."

" _Join_ you?" Conner sputtered, completely shocked by the offer. He turned to Fiona, eyes pleading. "Grand Enchanter, it's bad enough that we're at odds with the templars over the rebellion, but we can't join Tevinter. What will the people of Thedas think?"

"To the Void with them!" Calpernia spat. Her patience lost in an instant. "Venatori, take the Grand Enchanter to her chambers. I will handle this myself."

"Please, Calpernia." Fiona pleaded as she was shuffled out of the room. "Do not harm them."

Her pleas could be heard echoing down the hall and Calpernia looked back at them, studying them briefly before she offered, "I'll ask once more. Join us and you will be spared."

Aydienne glanced to Conner who had recoiled under Calpernia's gaze. He was terrified, but still unwilling to submit to a Tevinter mage. He shakily said, "No."

Calpernia smirked at his defiance and pulled her staff around in front of her. It crackled with eager energy as she held it, the mana surging through it.

"Very well." The woman grinned as she aimed her staff at Conner.

Calpernia's hand rose, as if pulling flames from Hell beneath Aydienne and singeing her robes. Aydienne had forgotten she wasn't wearing her usual, apprentice robes and the soft silk she slept in burned quickly to her skin. She patted the flame away and sent a string of electricity at Calpernia, hitting her face and splitting her lower lip.

The Tevinter woman growled and balled her fist in a sheath of flame and rushed toward Aydienne, who in turn let lightning crackle around her own knuckles as she prepared for a hit. Calpernia reared back, sending a fist of fire toward Aydienne, who slammed her own hand into the Tevinter woman's, erupting into an explosion that sent them both flying back into the walls.

As the dust cleared, Aydienne's vision twisted but she could hear Calpernia spouting a battle cry as she charged at her again. Aydienne couldn't move, her entire body felt the aftershocks of the impact and all she could do was watch as the brute came at her. Aydienne closed her eyes, hoping to focus enough mana to form wards, but her entire head was spinning.

Calpernia's cry was cut short in a whoosh of magic that pushed her away from Aydienne before she could strike. The Tevinter mage stumbled to gather her balance and glared over to the stairs where Dorian stood proudly, his staff in one hand and Aydienne's in the other.

Aydienne opened her eyes, relieved to see Dorian. Conner quickly rushed to her side, helping her up from the rubble. She shook off the dizziness and whispered a quiet thanks to Conner.

Dorian pouted. "I'm a little offended I wasn't invited to this little party."

Calpernia's eyes narrowed on Dorian before quickly turning on Conner with vicious indignation. "Tsk tsk tsk." She gritted through bloodied lips, making no effort to wipe away the red. "You slight Tevinter and yet here you have one of our Altus here in your castle."

Conner looked at her, confused and said, "Your what?"

" _Altus._ It means upper class." Dorian explained as he walked toward them, tossing Aydienne her staff.

"You're _Tevinter_?" Conner gapped, though Dorian didn't acknowledge the shock.

"Though, I don't recognize _you_." Dorian looked over Calpernia, intrigued that she recognized him. "Have we met at a Tevinter ball before? A gala perhaps?"

Calpernia snorted obscenely. "Hardly." She glanced over Dorian smugly before crossing her arms over her chest, her staff wedged in the crook of her arm. "I am surprised to see someone of your rank…" She practically spat the word at him. "Here in Redcliffe."

"I know; it's rather upsetting for me too." Dorian replied with a playful grin that Calpernia was not amused by. There was a defiant twinkle in Dorian's eye as his gaze narrowed on Calpernia. "I overheard you're helping Magister Alexius. I'm here to _stop_ him, actually."

"You fool." She hawked. Her staff began to crackle angrily in her fist. "He is part of something greater than himself. The Elder One will restore Tevinter to its former glory."

"The Elder One?" Dorian echoed.

"Who is this Elder One?" Aydienne asked, but Calpernia hadn't even turned to look to her.

"With the help of Magister Alexius, he will make Tevinter great again." Calpernia's eyes narrowed on Dorian and her noise crinkled. "I will not let any of you interfere with the Elder One's plans." Calpernia barked, sending a powerful blast at Dorian. He barely dodged the blow and was sent tumbling to the ground, surprised by the pure power of her magic. "Venatori!"

Her men reappeared in bushels of smoke and began to surround Aydienne and Conner. With her staff, Aydienne lunged the end into one of the men's stomach and then swung it around, cracking one in the face with it. Conner tossed a small blast of snow into one of them, freezing the rogue's dagger hand before he could strike.

Dorian had gotten back onto his feet and was quickly deflecting repeated blows from Calpernia's staff as she approached him, like a hawk encircling her prey. He was getting dangerously close to the large, stained glass window that oversaw the ledge to the sea below.

Aydienne sent a quick chain of lightning into one of the men, watching as it danced along each one and left them paralyzed. Dorian's deflection spells were dwindling against Calpernia's intense force magic and his staff was sent flying out of his hands. Aydienne rushed his way, but Calpernia sent another wave into Dorian and sent him flying through the stained glass and over the ledge.

"Dorian!" Aydienne shouted. She ran past Calpernia and to the edge of the window, ignoring the broken glass at her palms as she looked out and over the windowsill.

Dorian's shouts had already been drowned out by the fall and eventually only the roars of the waves were left. Aydienne's eyes searched frantically for any sign of him for a few moments before finally catching a glimpse of an unconscious body washing up on the shore below.

He wasn't moving.

Aydienne could barely hear Conner's voice calling out to her as she stared down in horror. The sound had been sucked away from around her and replaced with an incessant ringing in her ears. Conner's grasp pulled her away from the window as another burst of magic barely missed her. Aydienne turned to see Calpernia standing, poised and ready to continue their fight.

"Your invitation has expired." Calpernia snarled, her lips quickly turning to a smirk as she snapped her fingers and a few of her men appeared behind her in puffs of smoke. "Venatori! Lock them away."

The armored men began to surround them, daggers ready for any fight either of them decided to put up. Aydienne stood in front of Conner, whose breath was shaky and heavy with fear. Her mana pulsed through her veins as she prepared herself to fight their way out of this.

One of the mages sent a blast of ice her way, but she dodged and slammed her staff down, sending a wave of electricity between them. They were stunned for a moment, and before Aydienne could get in another attack, Conner had already grabbed her wrist and was pulling her away as he took off down the hall.

* * *

 **A/N:** Going a little off script, but that's what fanfiction is about! I'll be doing it quite often through this story, but I hope you'll enjoy it. Please read, review, and or follow.

As usual, I'd like to give credit to and endless thanks for many of the Elvhen phrases to FenxShiral for their incredible work on deconstructing the Elvhen language.

To find Project Elvhen /works/3553883/chapters/7825850 or visit their tumblr under the FenxShiral tag.


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